Page 1 of Cruelest Contract (Storm’s Eye Ranch)

T he accident has made a lot of things impossible. Dancing is one of them.

No one notices when I escape from my brother’s wedding reception. A year ago I would have stayed and danced in the villa courtyard until my heart pounded and my heels blistered but not anymore.

A cluster of oak trees at the edge of my grandfather’s vineyard estate has always been a favorite spot. Today it’s the perfect place to hide and daydream about a future where I’m dancing with no pain.

My leg already throbs from the short walk. The ache travels along the scar line like it’s got a mind of its own and is reminding me why I’m trying to hide among the old oaks. Ten months of physical therapy has made a big difference but every careful step reminds me of my new limitations.

Angelo, my least favorite brother, flashed a nasty smirk earlier when he noticed I was trying to tag along with the boys. “Get lost for fuck’s sake. You’ll never keep up.”

Those words cut deep. Angelo’s insults always do. And I can never think of an equally mean comeback until he’s long gone.

Of course I couldn’t keep up with my brothers as they joined the Tempesta boys in a knot of wild shoving and cursing with stolen liquor bottles hidden under their shirts. I refused to beg them to wait for me. I knew they wouldn’t.

Boys are lucky. They’ll be allowed to do as they please. My grandfather’s guards are patrolling the grounds with long guns slung over their shoulders but they won’t care about a pack of teenagers drinking themselves sick in some remote corner of the vineyard.

Angelo, two years older, was born a bully so I never expect much from him. But whenever my twin follows along, I can’t help feeling crushed.

All of our lives we’ve been a team. The Grimaldi twins. Gabriel and Cecilia. Cici and Gabe. Now my twin brother leaves me behind without looking back. I don’t know how to make it stop hurting when Gabriel chooses to stick by Angelo’s side, not mine.

Behind me, the tempo of the tarantella speeds up. The laughter from the wedding reception grows louder.

Before I slipped away, I saw my parents out there, twirling around with the crowd in a rare moment of carefree fun. The bride danced with her bridesmaids. My cousins danced with each other.

I got a funny feeling when my eldest brother said his wedding vows.

Eight years older, Matthias was always worlds ahead.

We’re not close but he’s always been dependable and protective.

I’ll miss him. He’s not out there right now and I haven’t seen him since he and Daniela shared their first dance.

He was called to a private meeting with our grandfather.

Last week I heard my father say that Matthias, as the firstborn grandson, will be receiving one of the beachfront resorts as a wedding present.

Today I’ve made a decision. I’ll never walk down the aisle until I find someone who looks at me the way Matthias looks at Daniela. Anything less would be like giving up.

The thicket of trees is just up ahead but Angelo’s sharp laughter stops me in my tracks. My heart sinks because I know Gabriel must have led them here. He’s the only one who knows about my favorite spot. The sense of betrayal tastes bitter.

There’s movement in the trees and I try to be quiet as I inch closer for a better look just as Angelo delivers the punchline of his latest obscene joke.

The boys sit on flat boulders and rotted logs while passing a bottle around. Gabe hesitates before taking a sip and immediately chokes but the Tempesta boys gulp from the bottle like it’s something they do every day.

The four Tempesta brothers and their father arrived for the wedding early this morning.

I’ve never met them before but I’ve heard their names plenty over the years.

They are close in age and they run wild on their Wyoming ranch.

There’s a rumor that their father went sort of crazy after their mother was murdered.

I don’t know if Cassio Tempesta is really crazy but he does seem a little weird. I saw him at the reception and he was sitting alone while puffing on a cigar and glaring at no one in particular. Whenever he does speak to people, they look like they’re trying to figure out the quickest escape route.

His sons look like him, all of them with handsome faces, black hair and broad shoulders. They make me nervous. Even so, I can’t seem to stop staring at them.

Fortunato is the youngest, the same age as me and Gabe. But whereas Gabe is still short and scrawny, Fort is nearly as tall and strong as his big brothers.

The two middle brothers always trip me up. One is named Gaetano. The other is Tiberius. They aren’t twins but could easily be confused for twins.

Lastly, there’s the oldest Tempesta brother, the one who chooses to stand apart from the rest of them right now.

Julian can’t be more than seventeen but there’s a different energy about him, and not just because he’s more muscled and serious in the way that grown men are.

He leans against the thick base of a tree with his arms crossed and his foot propped up on the trunk.

The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up past his elbows.

He studies the other boys with an attitude that leaves no doubt he’s in charge.

Like he’s the lone adult overseeing a rowdy playground and he’s just biding his time until he gets to do something more interesting.

None of the boys have noticed me yet but when they do, Angelo will say something rude. The rest of them will laugh. Gabe will pretend I’m not here. I’ll be forced to walk away with my cheeks on fire and my eyes watering and I’ll probably end up wiping my running nose on the sleeve of my cardigan.

None of this sounds like a good time. I might as well return to the wedding reception and watch everyone else dance. At least there will be cake.

While I’m trying to figure out the best way to retreat without being seen, Julian’s gaze flicks to me, scrolls quickly and then goes flat with disinterest.

My cousin Lianna insists she hooked up with him a few months back when he showed up with his father at my uncle’s Las Vegas hotel. I have no idea if this is true. Lianna has lied before and she’s definitely full of herself now that she’s sixteen and having all kinds of life experiences.

But now that I’m this close to Julian Tempesta, I have no trouble believing her story. I bet Julian does whatever he wants and always gets his way. I wonder how that feels.

The music is still playing. The buzz of laughter and voices drifts across the gentle slopes of the vineyard.

There’s also the beat of a new and inexplicable sound, kind of like galloping horses. My stomach tightens automatically.

I’ll never ride a horse again. I still think they are beautiful but I feel sick if I get too close to one.

Instinctively, I bend down to touch the damaged leg that’s lucky to still be attached to my body. When my mother tried to gently talk me out of wearing black winter tights beneath my dress today, I refused.

People see my scars and they stare. I will not give them anything to stare at. With a shaky breath, I take my hand off my leg and lift my eyes to search for the source of the noise.

Shades of soft orange streak the sky and dusk will soon fall but there’s still plenty of light. More than enough for me to see the two spidery shapes rapidly advancing in this direction.

Even after I realize the shapes are helicopters I’m not afraid. Helicopters aren’t rare and they aren’t scary.

It’s not until panicked shouts begin to ring out and I spot some of my grandfather’s men running through the vineyard with their guns raised that I know something is very wrong.

It all happens fast. So very fast.

A deep voice roars, “GET DOWN!”

I know I should listen. But I can’t move. I’m frozen in place on open ground. A sitting duck. A band of terror tightens in my chest.

Both helicopters hover above the formation of tables set up for the wedding reception.

The wind from the propellers knocks over chairs and topples the five tier wedding cake.

Some people understand what’s coming and dive under tables in desperation.

But anyone who just finished dancing on the huge wide open patio has nowhere to go.

The bullets fire at an impossibly rapid speed, hundreds of them. The guns pointing from the open doors of both helicopters are being controlled by unseen men. And they are merciless.

It’s a shock when I’m knocked off my feet. My cheek hits the dirt. For one wild second I’m positive I’ve just been shot.

But I haven’t been shot and I’m not alone.

A very hard, heavy body has tackled me from behind and now pins me to the earth. Even if I wasn’t too petrified to move, I wouldn’t be able to.

Noises blend together. The deafening chop of the helicopter propellers. The endless rapid crack of fired bullets. Screams echo from all directions.

“Stay down,” growls my protector. Big hands cover my ears, a useless attempt to spare me from hearing what’s happening nearby.

All I can see of him are muscled forearms and white sleeves rolled above the elbows.

We’ve never spoken, but I know him.

Just a moment ago he was leaning against a tree and watching his brothers get drunk on stolen whiskey.

Now Julian Tempesta has come between me and death, shielding my body with his.

Bullets hit the earth not far away. Each impact vibrates the ground.

I don’t know how this is happening but it is. Every nightmare rolls into one. Time is an uncertain thing. I might have been here for a minute or an hour. Grass tickles my nose and my chest heaves with sobs.

As horrible as it is to be flat on the ground while bullets fly everywhere, I know things will get much worse.

The faces of all the people I love fly through my mind.

My brothers. My parents. My aunts and uncles and cousins. Even my strict grandfather.

I should be able to remember at least one prayer to save them but there’s nothing. Only intense, paralyzing terror.

The gunfire stops and the roar of the helicopters fades. Men are shouting. Women are wailing.

“Julian!” calls a frightened voice from the trees.

“I’m all right,” he calmly answers and the weight of his body leaves mine.

I might have just stayed there sobbing in the grass for ages but Julian gently pulls me up. He holds me by the arms when my legs threaten to melt. Behind him, five anxious boys stand at the edge of the tree line, his brothers and mine.

I’m relieved to see them. But they are no longer badass teenagers passing around a forbidden liquor bottle. They’ve become terrified, wide-eyed children.

Angelo mutters the word, “Fuck,” and vomits on the ground.

Gabriel stares at me, then shifts his eyes to something in the distance and sinks to his knees with a heartbroken cry.

Fortunato points a shaking finger. “Look, it’s Dad! He’s running over here.”

Julian’s eyes scan the space above my head and his tense posture relaxes a little when he sees his brother is telling the truth.

If their father is alive and running to his kids then maybe mine is too. And my mother. And the rest of them might also be safe, impossible as this seems.

But one look over my shoulder shatters the illusion. There’s been no miracle.

Images burn into my brain with cruel speed. In an instant I know they can never be erased.

Bodies are lying on the ground. A few are moving. Most are not. The blood is everywhere. Blood now stains a white bridal gown. Blood is splattered on the tables and the patio tiles.

My mother bought matching dresses for the two of us. When I reminded her that I hate wearing pink, she tickled me with a laugh and said the color was salmon. My father told her she looked beautiful and she blushed.

She really did look beautiful.

She’ll also never wear that salmon colored dress again. It’s now stained and ruined among the fallen bodies.

A single piercing shriek rips painfully from my throat and then stalls. The devastating weight of grief crushes my lungs from within and there’s no more air to scream with.

“Don’t look,” Julian orders and cups my face in his hands. “Just don’t look at it. Look at me instead.”

Panic threatens to engulf me. Every breath feels like a punishment.

And yet I do as he says. I look up into Julian Tempesta’s determined dark eyes and I keep staring at him, only at him, while trying to wish away the horror all around us.

Now I know how the end can come for you.

It can come for you under a beautiful summer sky in the dreamy moments before twilight.

It can come for you amid the laughter of your family and set to music that cuts off with no warning.

No matter how long I cling to Julian, this terrible new reality still exists.

And it waits for me.