Page 8

ANASTASIA

Twenty-six years ago, he was my protector, whether I wanted him to be or not.

I stand holding my two cut braids in my hands, with tears running down my face. All four Bonetti brothers are mean, so this shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.

Massimo comes into the kitchen, after returning from his run, and stops in his tracks when he spots me, knitting his brows, his expression showing concern for me.

“What happened?”

His gaze travels, from the tears on my cheeks, down to the hair in my hands. I am like any other 12-year-old girl. My hair is important to me, and this is devastating.

“Luca cut my hair!” I say, as I continue to look at the damage he has done. I don't know how I am supposed to go to school on Monday, looking like this. He darts out of the room, yelling, “Luca! Get in here!”

The Bonetti brothers aren’t the kind of boys that talk things over. It’s no surprise, when I go after them, and find Massimo on top of Luca, punching his face repeatedly.

The weird thing about Massimo Bonetti is that he is mean to me, but apparently he’s the only one who is allowed to be.

I tilt my head back, and look into his eyes, and am grateful at the lack of recognition in his gaze.

“I’m sorry for coming onto your property. I was curious what this place was. I’ll be going now.”

He rubs his hand over his beard, without taking his eyes from mine.

“That’s the game we’re playing?”

I shake my head, trying to convince him to let me go.

“It was an accident. I’m sorry. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I’ll be sure to never come on your property again.”

I’ve been to his brother’s house recently, but he wasn’t there, so I’m hoping he doesn’t know what I look like.

He is not the boy I knew. Massimo has some of the same features, but he has filled out since he was sixteen, the last time I saw him. His shirt is tight around his muscles, as they flex with his movements. His gaze, more threatening. And his voice? I don’t remember it being the deep tone it is now.

His lips turn up into a smirk, as his eyes darken with obvious malicious intent.

“That’s the problem, Anastasia. We both know that’s not the truth. Don’t we, counselor?”

“That’s not my name. I’m Jenny.”

He strokes his fingers down my cheek, giving the illusion of a gentle touch, before he places his hand around my throat and squeezes.

“Liars don’t live long in my presence. You’d serve yourself well to remember that.”

I cough, as I gasp for air, when he releases his hold on me.

“Leave me alone, or I’ll call the police.”

He steps back, with a sadistic grin on his face, and a challenge in his eyes, as if this is some sort of entertaining game.

“Call them. I’ll wait.”

I tilt my head at him, not believing for a second that he’s going to allow me to call for help.

Massimo nods. “Go right ahead, little lamb. I will not touch you before they get here. Scout’s honor.”

I roll my eyes at him, because I’m quite sure this man was never a boy scout. In a split second decision, I call the Chief of Police, instead of dialing 9-1-1, simply because I don’t want to bother them.

He answers with surprise.

“Anastasia?” He questions quietly, like maybe his wife is sleeping.

“I’m at the Bonetti warehouse on third street, and I need assistance. It’s urgent.”

If he is wondering why I didn’t call 9-1-1, he doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll send for a couple cars, and be there myself in a few minutes.”

Massimo stands staring at me, while his gaze travels the length of my body several times, as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, giving me the impression the look on his face right now is why they started calling him Psycho.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

He chuckles, with an evil expression, leaning his head down and staring into my eyes, as his own darken, with a predatory glare.

“Like what? Like I’m the wolf, about to teach the pretty little lamb the consequences of walking into the wolf’s den?”

My eyes widen at his words, but I don’t speak. I’m not sure I could if I tried.

“That’s right, counselor. I’m going to rip you to shreds, before I devour you. The louder you fucking scream, the harder I’ll dig my blade into your sweet flesh. I’m a well-controlled man, so I’ll wait patiently for that part, but mark my words, I’ll watch you bleed. It’ll be a pure fucking pleasure.”

He rubs his hands together with excitement, when he notices the flashing lights. I don’t know what he’s excited about, but I’m happy that this is about over. I want to get the hell out of here, and never see this evil man again. Well, until he’s behind bars.

The chief of police, Bob Roberts, approaches us, with six police officers flanking him.

“Mr. Bonetti, good to see you, sir. Is there anything you need assistance with?”

I look at him, waiting for his response, but he shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m not the one that called you, Bob.”

The chief asks him, “Did you want us to remove her? If she’s causing problems for you, we’re happy to take care of it.”

What? I called him for help, and he is asking if Massimo wants me removed from the premises? He has not even addressed me, and I know my face is turning red from the anger surging through me.

Massimo chuckles, as he stares at me with an unreadable expression.

“I’m perfectly capable of removing anyone I want removed. I’m sorry she wasted your time.”

Glancing at Roberts, he nods at Massimo. “No bother at all. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Bonetti.”

And they turn to leave.

What the fuck just happened?

All the air escapes from my lungs. This is insane. What the hell happened to ‘serve and protect’?

I turn back to him, my panic visible on my face, and, judging by his evil expression, he is enjoying this far too much.

“Do you see now, counselor? We’re untouchable, because we own everyone.”

I straighten my back and glare at him.

“Not everyone. You don’t own me.”

He steps forward. “Oh, but I will. Once I catch you, I own you.”

“Once you catch me?” I question, honestly because there’s no catching what’s already in front of you.

Massimo runs his tongue over his bottom lip again, and growls in a deep voice.

“Run, little lamb. Run like your life depends on it. If I catch you, I will devour you.”

I stand, frozen, from his words, as he growls louder, his voice deeper, and as threatening as his large stature.

“Run.”

He pulls out his knife, and I do what he said, I run for my life.