Page 22 of Havoc

I didn’t have time for either brother and though the mafia sibling was better suited toward my new lifestyle, I didn’t plan on letting either of them in. I didn’t give a fuck that Nico claimed I was his or that he made me say it. I had one agenda, to find and kill the people who had murdered my family. The Romanos were going to have to kindly fuck right off.

The last thing I wanted to find out was what would happen if Nico discovered I was killing the very men he was looking for. Something told me his fury would be uncontrollable. Tugging on a pair of short shorts and a tank top, I looked around the room. I was still breathing hard, and my body was too sensitive. The fabric I’d just pulled on felt scratchy and irritating. I wasn’t about to admit I wanted to feel Nico’s hands, or better yet—mouth—on me instead. It felt too disrespectful to Tony’s memory. In the turbulent aftermath of emotions Nico had left me with, I felt like I was drowning. I went a while there with hardly any emotions—except the dark kind. Now new feelings were creeping in and I didn’t know how to handle them.

Stomping over to the window, I jerked on it. It stayed stubbornly locked. I spent the next few minutes stalking around my place, trying to see where he’d come in from and if he’d taken anything. As far as I could tell he hadn’t, and I could only guess that he’d come in the front door. It was locked, though. So, he’d either picked it, or somehow had a key.

I got ready for bed, going over my plan for the morning in my head. First thing, I was going to go get a new door handle with a lock that no one had a key to. I didn’t care if it went against my lease.

Each time he’d shown up he’d thrown me off balance. Nico was turning up in places I wasn’t expecting him, and it completely shut down my ability to fight back. He’d done me a favor by showing me where my weaknesses were. If the Guzman Cartel sent anyone after me, they wouldn’t be able to get the drop on me because Nico already had. I’d been sloppy and careless. That ended now.

I laid my gun on the table next to my bed as I crawled in. Shutting my eyes, I worked on relaxing and calming my system, so I’d hopefully be able to fall asleep.

* * *

Nico approached me,his dark shadow enveloping me as I sat on the floor in my old bedroom. The room that Tony and I had shared. Before I could ask him what he was doing there—in my sacred space—Dante came in from my left. I looked over my shoulder—I couldn’t move more than my head—and gasped as I saw Santos and Pérez cutting off any escape from behind. They were boxing me in.

My heart stuttered in my chest as Tony and my parents walked into the room and stood before me. “Please.” I looked at them in desperation and despair. No one said anything. They stared down at me like I was a worm on the sidewalk, nothing more. My heart ripped to shreds as Tony moved his gaze between the brothers before meeting my own again. My grief descended, thick and impenetrable, as they brought down a lid for the glass box that had materialized around me and closed me inside.

No matter how hard I pounded or begged, my family watched with impassive eyes, Nico and Dante were silent, and those I killed laughed the deranged laughter of the avenged. I slumped down inside as the air was used up and death greeted me.

I bolted upright in bed, sucking in huge gulps of air as the memory of suffocating to death played in my head. No, not a memory, just a dream. I was shaking and freezing. Curling into my comforter, that I’d kicked off as I’d struggled physically during a dream where I’d been immobile, I tried to warm myself and slow the frantic rhythm of my heart.

The dreams had left me alone ever since Pérez. I knew they’d be back at some point, but they’d changed—warped. Before, I’d dreamed my memories. I was forced to relive my loved ones' deaths over and over. Then, I relived my victims’ deaths—those were easier dreams to bear, honestly.

Knowing I couldn’t lay here, alone in the silence for another minute, I got up and dressed for the day. I didn’t want to be around people, but they had a way of warding off the darkness and defeat that surrounded me after I woke.

* * *

I huffedout a breath as the screwdriver slipped and scratched along the wood of the door. Tony had always been the handy one. He’d fixed damn near anything that’d broken on the farm. Repairing things had never really been my strong suit.

“Need some help? Or did that door insult you in some way?”

I glanced up and scowled into Dante’s laughing face. A flash of his disapproving look from the dream last night entered my mind and I had to look down at the floor to gain my composure.

“Hey,” he said softly. Dante knelt down and put a hand on my shoulder, a frown marring his face.

Damn him and his ability to read people. It was a skill finely honed by his years as cop, no doubt.

Pointing the screwdriver at him, I tried to play off my unease. “The guy at the hardware store said, ‘this is so easy a child could do it.’” I glared at him as he rolled his lips between his teeth and bit down to contain his laughter. I was thankful he was playing along, but I could still see concern shining in his eyes. Why this man had chosen me to care about, I wasn’t sure. He’d hate me if he found out what I’d done. It wouldn’t be in the same way that his brother would despise me, but I’d surely lose them both.

I didn’t know why it mattered. I didn’t know them—not really—but over the last few weeks Dante and Ciro had started worming their way into my affections. And Nico, well, I had zero clue how to unpack what I felt toward him. I decided to leave him in the category of insanely hot, bad guy, who I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole because he was that toxic for me. I just needed to figure out how to get him to take the hint.

“It’s not easy,” I continued on after pausing for that inner reflection. When he started laughing at me, I glared at him. “Go away. No, I don’t need your help,” I said, finally answering his initial question.

He held up his hands in defeat since I was still pointing the screwdriver his way. “Hand over the screwdriver and no one gets hurt,” he quipped.

I couldn’t help but laugh. The guy could be a serious goofball. I bit my lip and debated. I really didn’t want to have to finish installing this thing myself, but getting further involved with either of these brothers was a terrible idea. Somewhere inside me, I admitted that I didn’t really want to be alone right now. So, I’d accept his help for however long it’d take him to work on my door.

Giving him a long-suffering sigh, I handed over the tool and scooted out of his way. “Thanks, Dante.” I didn’t want to get him in trouble with Nico, but I also didn’t want the mafia king thinking he could tell me what to do. I’d dug around for more information on Nico before I’d gone to the hardware store. Thankfully, I hadn’t done that last night or what I found out would have given me another nightmare.

I had considered my options and thought about moving. Nico was one scary motherfucker. Most of what I found was speculation—the man liked his privacy. The sheer volume of what wasn’t available about him told me all I needed to know. I sighed at the fucked up turn my life had taken. I used to be such a normal—happily boring—woman. I’d eventually discarded the idea of moving. Just changing residences wasn’t going to be enough to throw someone like Nico off my trail. At least he didn’t know who I was or what I was up to.

“So, what happened to your other one?”

I blinked over at Dante. I’d almost forgotten he was here, that’s how far into my thoughts I’d retreated. “Oh, I just feel better replacing the locks when I move.”

He searched my gaze for a moment before he nodded and went back to putting in my new door handle. We’d chatted for the short amount of time it took him to finish up. I tried not to be bitter about the fact that I’d been working on the damn thing for over twenty minutes before he’d come along.

I turned down his offer of dinner—between friends—the man was nearly as insistent as his brother, although much sweeter. Once I was alone inside my place I sat down on the couch and laid my head back, staring up at the ceiling. I knew what I needed to do. It was time to cross another name off the list. Vaguely, I wondered what would happen once I got to the end of it? Would the nightmares disappear? Or would I be stuck with them for good?