chiara
After washing down the table, stools, and floor—making sure no more of Alessandro’s blood was left in the kitchen—I threw all of the bloody paper towels in the garbage, along with his shirt.
Then, I did the only other logical thing there was to do when you were trying to hide your car, which had hundreds of bullet holes in it and a shattered back windshield, from your cheating boyfriend so he wouldn’t get angry and ask questions. I removed the plates and drove it to the farthest junkyard I could find.
Not only did I want to avoid Tommy finding out what had happened, but I also wanted to avoid the Sicilian Mafia. I didn’t know what kind of people they had in the States already. They were Alessandro’s problem, and he would have to deal with them himself.
So, without leaving a smidgen of evidence behind to link the car to me, I called a cab to bring me all the way back home.
Before I went upstairs, I checked the garage. Tommy’s car was parked next to my empty spot. I rolled my eyes, trying to come up with a good excuse as to where I had been because he was going to ask or assume.
When I walked into the apartment, Tommy was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched.
“You’re home late.” He stalked toward me.
Great. Here we go.
“How was your night?”
I closed the door behind me. “Good.”
“I bet it was.” His voice was gruff and terribly chilling. “Where were you?”
“Alice needed me to help her get out of a situation with this guy at a bar.”
He chuckled, but there was no lightness in his voice. “Alice.” He said her name like he didn’t believe me. “Do you mean Alessandro?”
“No.” I pressed my lips together and hiked my purse up my shoulder.
“You left the party with him.”
He took another threatening step toward me, trying to intimidate me, but I placed my hands on my hips.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Chiara.” He raised his voice.
“It’s not bullshit.” I shook my head. “You weren’t even there. How do you know when I left or with who? Stop making assumptions about me.”
“Someone saw you leave with him.”
“Who?”
“Karrie.” He said her name like he had never spoken it before, like it was so new and unfamiliar to him, like he wasn’t fucking her behind my back.
I clenched my jaw. So, that was the whore’s name. Karrie.
That bitch had probably waited until I left to follow us out. She was watching me. She obviously knew who I was. She didn’t know that I was going to be the one to kill her and her precious Tommy.
I didn’t care that her fucking name was Karrie. I cared that he had the audacity to bring her name up in our conversation. So, I was going to put him on the spot—hard.
“Who’s Karrie?”
He didn’t react like I wanted him to, but he reacted exactly how I’d expected.
“Don’t try to get out of this.”
He was the one trying to get out of this. He was the one who had brought her name up.
“He was here.” His breath smelled like hard liquor.
He was probably this moody because he hadn’t gotten a chance to fuck the whore tonight.
“No, he wasn’t.”
I stepped closer to him and brushed my hand against his jaw, the way he loved. “Why would I be with him? He’s been nothing but rude to me. He’s a disgusting stronzo that I have no use for.”
“No use?” he asked.
That was all he had gotten out of that.
He smacked my hand off his face and grabbed it, tugging me closer. “I’m tired of your lies. So fucking tired of them. You’re mine. How could you even think about cheating on me with him?”
“Tommy,” I said, forcing myself to keep my cool, “I’m not cheating on you. I promise.”
He spun me around and bent me over the counter. He snatched my neck. “I’m going to show you why you are mine.”
Before I could stop him, he pulled down my pants and his. He thrust himself into me—bare.
I had to keep this act up a little longer—just a little longer. He didn’t feel good inside of me—hadn’t for months. But it would all be worth it. It would.
He grabbed on to my hips, thrusting himself inside of me, harsh—terribly harsh. He pushed my face down onto the kitchen counter.
“Harder,” I said.
He thrust harder into me, not stopping until he came inside of me. He pulled out, letting his cum drip down my thighs, and walked out of the room and to the bathroom. I followed him and hopped into the shower with him.
He pushed a hand through his wet hair and sighed. “I’ve had a rough night.”
I wrapped my arms around him. He gently grabbed my face.
“You know I love you, right?” He smiled. “That I would do anything for you, even kill that fucking asshole?”
I grabbed on to his hand, stroking it slowly. “It’s okay,” I said, referring to what had just happened.
But it wasn’t okay. I was counting down the damn minutes until I could kill him.
“I love you more than anything.”
“I love you too, Tommy. I love you too.”