Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles Book 6)

After my shower, I chanced a glance at myself in the mirror. I’d missed a spot of dried blood near my temple. I reached for a towel and rubbed it away. My eyes were calm, not full of adrenaline or haunted, no sign that I’d killed a man in a blood-thirsty rage less than an hour ago. Turning away from my reflection, I stepped out of the bathroom, my hair still damp and only a towel around my body. Adamo was on the phone, nodding as he listened to what the person on the other end had to say. “All right, thanks. Good work.”

Adamo looked up and rose from the bed before he approached me. He cupped my cheeks in his warm palms, his eyes searching mine without saying a word for what felt like forever. I let him, found inner peace as I lost myself in his gaze. The brutal events of the day hadn’t left a trace in his eyes either. “You okay?”

I searched inside myself for a feeling of unease, of a deep unsettling sensation, but I was calm. I shook my head and pressed myself against Adamo. “I’m fine.”

“That’s good. The crew got rid of the body and cleaned every inch of the store. Nobody will suspect anything. It’ll take a while before anyone will notice he’s gone and hopefully the police will just think he moved away to avoid the rumors.”

I nodded, but my mind had already moved on from the man I’d killed to the next name on the list.

Adamo pulled back. “Let me take a shower, then we can talk some more.”

He headed into the bathroom but unlike me he didn’t close the door.

I stretched out on the bed and turned my phone on. I’d turned it off since yesterday to avoid calls from Dima and my father. As expected, my mailbox was overflowing with messages from both of them. As if Dad could sense my phone being turned on, he called again. Taking a deep breath, I picked up.

“Dinara, where the hell are you? Are you all right? Do you need help?”

The words were fired at me rapidly, making it difficult to understand them. “I’m fine. I don’t need help. I’m dealing with matters.”

“What kind of matters?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Dad. Honestly. I’ll be back in Chicago soon. Just give me some time and space.”

The more time I spent with Adamo the less I wanted to return to Chicago. I felt out of place there, now more than ever, and while I missed Dima, he and I had moved apart over the last year.

“I have been giving you plenty of time and space recently. Few men in my position would allow their daughters to walk around in enemy territory. That’s where you still are, right?”

“Yes, but you know I’m not in danger.”

“Do I? You’re hunting the past and that’s never a good thing.”

“Nobody holds grudges better than you do, Dad, and nobody clings more stubbornly to the past. I get that from you.”

He made a displeased sound. “Dima should be at your side. You aren’t meant to be alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said.

Dad scoffed. “You think a Falcone is going to protect you? Don’t make the mistake of becoming too friendly with them, Dinara. It’s a slippery slope.”

“What did Dima tell you?”

“I saw a video of you and the youngest Falcone dancing and kissing.” The last was said with blatant contempt.

Once I’d made sure the shower was still running, I said, “You don’t have to worry. There’s nothing between us. He’s a means to an end. Not more. He helps me get what I want.”

Guilt settled in the pit of my stomach for lying to my father like that, and for talking about Adamo as if he didn’t mean anything, when every day we were together, he captured more of my heart. I was glad that he couldn’t hear me talk like that. Even though, Adamo couldn’t talk Russian, I didn’t want him to be present when I spewed such hurtful lies.

“And what is that?”

“To kill the past.”

“Don’t let this man drag you into the dark.”

If anything, I was dragging Adamo into the dark. But even that didn’t ring quite true. It felt as if we were going this path as equals, hand in hand, driven by our demons. “Promise not to send Dima to get me, or I’ll dispose of my phone and you won’t be able to talk to me until I’m done.”

“I want daily messages telling me you’re okay, and I’ll track your whereabouts. If you don’t message me a day, I’ll send men over, even if it means war with the Camorra.”

I sighed. I knew that tone and that it was futile to discuss the matter further with him. “All right.”

The shower was turned off in the bathroom. Luckily, I could hear a knock in the background on Dad’s end. Dad was silent for a moment, as if he was listening to someone. “I have to go, Katinka. Be careful.”

“Always.” He hung up and I lowered the phone with a deep sigh.

“Bad news?” Adamo asked carefully, leaning in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his hip.

“My father worries about me.”

“Will he send men?”

“No, as long as I give him daily updates that I’m alive, he won’t act. He trusts me.”

“But definitely not me,” Adamo said, walking toward me. “And he won’t ever do it.”

He was right. My father wasn’t a man who trusted easily, and certainly not a member of the Camorra. “It doesn’t matter. As long as I trust you,” I said.

Adamo sank down beside me. “And do you trust me?”

“Would I be here with you if I didn’t?”

Adamo shrugged. “Maybe I’m your only option.”

I shook my head. “I could do this on my own. I know the addresses of every person on our list and after today we know that I can go through with killing them, so if it was really just about convenience, I wouldn’t need you beyond this point.”

Adamo smiled mirthlessly. “Then why am I still here?”

“I don’t need you to kill them, but I need your support, your encouragement. When you are close, I just feel better, more secure in who I am.”

“You don’t need me but you do,” he murmured.

I sighed. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe you just need to admit that you need me. Today you acted out of an impulse, and completely lost control. You didn’t pay attention to what was happening around you. If the same thing happens next time, you’ll need me to make sure nothing happens while you’re in your zone.”

“Like hurting myself.”

“Or someone walking in on you. I doubt you would have noticed if someone had suddenly walked into the hardware store.”

“You’re right. It was as if I was possessed.” I leaned closer to Adamo. “Okay, I need you, but I don’t want you to think that’s why I want to be with you.”

“Then why do you want to be with me?”

“Why do you want to help me? Why do you do this for a girl you have sex with?”

“You’re not just a girl I have sex with.”

“And you’re not just a guy I have sex with.”

Adamo smiled crookedly. “One day one of us has to be brave and put a name to what we have.”

“Do we?” I whispered. Adamo lay back on the bed and pulled me against him, one arm wrapped around me. “Who’s going to make us?”

“Maybe we’ll want certainty at some point, or maybe eventually our families will want answers, more answers than we have at this point.”

“That’s not something I want to think about now. I want to live in the moment. Right now the only thing I want to focus on is revenge and how we can make every person on the list pay for what they did to me, and other children.”

Adamo ran his hand lightly over my upper arm. “Even if you killed in a rush today, that doesn’t mean you won’t be haunted by nightmares of the murder. Maybe they’ll cease eventually, maybe they won’t. I just want you to be sure you can live with them, especially if we continue to hunt down your abusers and more deaths are added to your conscience.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Will they be worse than the nightmares that have been haunting my dreams since I was a little kid? I doubt it. So if you ask me, these new nightmares will be a damn improvement to the horrors of my nights right now.”

Adamo’s arm around me tightened. “Fuck. I really wish I could have tortured the asshole today. I actually considered doing it before you showed up.”

I propped myself up. “The next name on our list…he was one of the worst. I mean, every experience was horrible but some were nicer about it.”

Adamo gritted his teeth. “Nice isn’t a word I’d use to describe the atrocities those perverts did to you.”Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

I swallowed. “And they’ll all pay for what they did. But the next guy on the list, he was bad, really bad. He liked to hurt, and I…” Killing my abusers was one thing, but torturing them was another matter. Even some of my father’s men couldn’t watch torture, could I? And not just watch, could I torture someone myself?

Adamo tilted his head to catch my gaze. “You want to torture the asshole?”

My lips parted, but a wave of nerves washed through me. “I want him to suffer before he dies.”

“He will if you want it. I can do it.”

“I should at least be part of it. This is my revenge and I don’t want to be a coward.”

“It’s not about being a coward. Torturing someone takes a lot out of you. It’s different than the act of killing. You have to face the victim’s despair, pain and begging, have to relish in it and use it as another tool of suffering for them.”

“How many have you tortured? I know Remo and Nino are famous for their special talent, but I didn’t hear any stories about you.”

“I tried not to get involved in torture except when it was absolutely necessary. Both Nino and Remo wanted me to gain some experience but eventually they stopped forcing me to participate in these sessions.”

If even Adamo, who was a Falcone, couldn’t bear to torture someone, how would I be able to do it? “If it bothers you, if it gives you nightmares, then I don’t want you to do it, not for me. If I want them to suffer, I’ll have to do it myself. I won’t ask you to do something you hate.”

Adamo chuckled darkly, and pressed a fierce kiss to my lips. “It’s not that I hate it or that it haunts me in nightmares, Dinara. I enjoy it too much, that’s the fucking problem. I relish in the act of causing others’ pain, at least when I think they deserve it. I wish it were different, but I’m messed up. And the people on our list, they all deserve it so I’ll have a fucking great time doing it.”

“So you didn’t partake in torture because you liked it too much?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I quickly realized that I had the potential to be as good and creative as Remo, but I never wanted to be like that. I thought I could be better.” His smile became darker. “But I’m not, and the next asshole on the list will learn it the hard way, if you let me.”

I swallowed and gave a jerky nod. Adamo kissed me and wrapped his arms even more tightly around me. I could hardly breathe, but I only hugged him back with the same force. After the events of the day, after everything we’d just discussed, my body rang with the need to be as close to Adamo as possible. I didn’t care if it made me look weak or needy. Adamo made me feel as if it was okay to not be strong once in a while. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I closed my eyes, feeling safe.

The next morning, we headed out for the next stop on our roadtrip: Sacramento, the home of number two on our list. Even though this was my path to vengeance, Adamo and I were in this together. I was glad that I didn’t have to take this difficult journey alone.

The windows of the car were rolled down as we took the Interstate 80 to Sacramento. Warm air tousled my hair and my eyes were closed. The low beat of a rap song blasted from the speakers. Adamo’s fingers around mine kept me rooted as they always did when images from the past replayed in my head. This time they hadn’t overpowered me. I’d summoned my personal demons to find the right mindset for what lay ahead.

Adamo parked in front of the house of number two and killed the engine. The house wasn’t how I’d imagined it. I’d expected a forlorn, unkempt place. Something that reflected my own dark feelings whenever the face of him replayed in my memory. He had been the fear of my past.

Goosebumps rose all over my body. The front yard was immaculately kept, with perfectly trimmed lawn and a beautiful white porch. This looked like a place of happiness.

“Are you sure he lives here alone?”

“Not alone, no. He shares the house with his mother, but he doesn’t have his own family.”

“Does she know?” I asked.

“Yes, she gave him an alibi in a case but he was convicted anyway.”

I nodded, wondering how she could live with what her son had done, but she wasn’t my concern. “But she isn’t home now?”

“No, she works in a gas station. We’re clear to go in.”

Clear to go in. I smiled wryly. “You make it sound as if we’re a SWAT team.”

“We’re going to kidnap him, so we have to be as stealthy.”

“This is a good neighborhood so people will report suspicious behavior.”

Adamo shrugged. “We’ll be fine. Let’s wait here for him to return home from work.”

We sat in silence for almost an hour before a car pulled into the driveway and a short but heavily overweight man got out. His hair had thinned and turned gray, but even from afar his face sent a shudder through my body. My fingers clamped around my knees and my breathing became uneven as my pulse sped up. I was torn between the urge to run and the desire to attack. “Dinara?” Adamo said softly.

I dragged my eyes away. Adamo’s brows furrowed. “You are safe. The roles have switched. You aren’t his victim. You will be his judge.”

“I know,” I said, and the words said aloud banished the fear from the past into the darkest corner of my mind where little Katinka still cowered helplessly. Today she’d get justice.