Page 35 of Reckless Desires

“Seriously?!” I exclaim, my annoyance flaring as I awkwardly climb over to the driver’s side. “Taking this a little too seriously, don’t you think?” I shoot him a glare, my eyebrows furrow in frustration.

Killian joins his brother, who circles the man. Their laughter echoes through the barn with promises of violence. My heart races as I watch the man tied to a chair, already bruised and bloodied, eyes wide with terror. Killian leans in close, his voice low and menacing, dripping with a twisted kind of charm. “Tell us who sent you.”

Each brother holds a cruel smile. The man shakes his head violently, desperation etched into every line of his face. Killian grabs a pair of pliers. I want to turn away, close my eyes, and block it all out, but when I close my eyes, all I see are those girls locked in cages. Killian speaks to his brothers as though guiding them on how to properly torture someone. He tosses the pliers to JoJo.

I watch as Killian says something to JoJo before the man screams in pain. I feel a sharp pang of revulsion when I see JoJo hold up the man’s finger in the air. Blood is gushing everywhere. Between the men’s laughter and the violence, it forms a knot of disgust and fear, leaving me unable to breathe. The man refuses to speak, no matter what they do to him. Killian picks up the machete and, with a blow, he strikes the man’s chest.

Jumping out of the seat, the man beside me pushes my shoulder back down, forcing me back into the seat. Killian keeps going until the man’s heart beats right out of his chest. I am paralyzed in fear. This is the side of the lifestyle that I was kept from. Every diamond I wear, designer clothes, and bags all come from this somehow. I always held pride knowing my father was well respected, and in return, me, my mother, and sisters got the same respect because of who my father was. Now fully understanding what that means, I’m not sure if the Andretti name is worth upholding.

Just as Killian steps back to wipe his hands on a cloth, looking satisfied with the mess they have created, I begin to shake as he makes his way toward me. Falling out of the chair, I crawl backward as tears stream down my face, the sounds of the metal chain clinking against the ground.

“You look like shit,” Killian says, looking down at me. “You should go inside and rest. It’s been a long day.”

When I reach the door of the barn, I pull myself up. My legs are wobbly, and there’s no strength to push open the heavy wooden door. Killian reaches over me with force, opening the barn and simultaneously unhooking the chain connected to the collar. The fresh air hits me like a wave but does nothing to erase the images seared into my brain.

When I look over my shoulder, Killian doesn’t look bothered that I am far enough from him to run, but after what I saw, he knows I won’t run.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Killian

It wasn’t right to make her watch, but now that I have established fear, I know she will beg Alessio to do whatever it takes to save her. She looks like a deer in headlights. The chain hangs out of my hand, letting it drag across the ground.

“I’m calling it a night!” I shout over my shoulder to my brothers.

Liliana follows me inside quietly. We take our shoes off and head up the stairs. I don’t look behind me, but I know she heads for the bathroom when I hear the door to my right shut. When I enter my room, I grab my phone from the nightstand and see Cameron called me twenty times with endless text messages confirming they would handle the Russians and telling me to start looking for Lily.

I dial Donal; it should be morning time in Providence as I toss the chain to the side of the room.

“You’re alive,” he answers.

“Keep an eye on the Costellos. Looks like we got their attention.” I take my shirt off and toss it on the floor.

“You got it.”

Hanging up as I walk out of the room, I hear the shower turn on. I need to take a piss. Fuck it. I think we passed the comfort zone after that horse ride that nearly had my head explode. Letting myself in, I find Liliana curled up in a ball.

I huff. “The first time is usually traumatizing.” She doesn’t move.

“Just go away.” Her voice is low, like she’s struggling to get the words out.

“You don’t need to be dramatic.” I unzip my pants and pull my dick out of my boxers, aiming it at the toilet.

The release is satisfying, and when I’m done, I turn around to see she is still in the same position, but this time I see blood mixed in the water.

“Are you hurt?” I try to examine without touching her. She can’t go back hurt under my watch.

“No, I’m just in pain. I haven’t had my meds.” She’s inhaling and exhaling with practiced breaths.

She leans her back against the shower wall and applies pressure to her pelvis with her forearms. More blood is coming from between her legs. Shit. Her period.

“I’ll get you Tylenol. Just get up. You’re sitting in your blood.”

“Fuck off, Killian. Just go away. Please.”

When she looks up at me, there is indescribable pain in her eyes and face. Although the man I was torturing just now experienced removal of body parts, they both seem to carry the weight of enduring the same pain. And before you know it, she starts to pass out.

I grab her just in time, taking her into my arms and into my bedroom. Her body is trembling. Gently, I lay her on the bed, where she slightly moves then curls back into a ball. Something is wrong. I go to grab a towel and tuck it under her. The sight of blood never bothered me, but I didn’t want her bleeding onto my bed.