Twisted Cravings by Cora Reilly

Dinara joined me in my tent that night, but she was restless. “Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere away from everyone where we can sleep outside without our tent? I feel like everything’s closing in on me.” Her voice was hesitant.

“Of course,” I murmured.

We packed everything and drove my car about a mile away from camp. Tomorrow wasn’t a race day so it wasn’t a problem. We set up our sleeping bags and pillows on the ground until we created a spacious bed under the stars. For a while, we sat beside each other, staring off into the darkness. In the distance lights from camp illuminated the horizon, but soon those would die as well. I’d set up the gas lamp behind us on the smallest possible flame to create just enough light so we could see our faces. “I’ve been thinking about watching the recordings you gave me but I’m scared. If seeing my mother already unsettled me so much, what will seeing all those guys and what they did, do to me?” She snapped her mouth shut, regret passing her face. In the months since I’d known Dinara, I’d learned one thing about her: she hated admitting weakness, or what she perceived as weakness. I linked our fingers.

“If you want, I can be present when you watch it,” I said, even if the thought of seeing Dinara’s abuse turned my stomach over. Watching a few minutes had already been too much. But for Dinara I’d do it.

She twisted her head around to me. “I don’t think I want you to see me like that, not more than you have already seen.” She shook her head. “Fuck, this is so messed up.”

“I could burn them for you. If Remo hadn’t given them to me, you would have never known they exist. Just pretend you never found out.”

“He wanted me to have them so I can see my abusers and decide over their fate. Your brother is all about Judgment Day, isn’t he?”

I chuckled. “Not in a religious sense, but an eye for an eye is definitely his style. Though he wouldn’t settle for an eye. He’d take the eyes, the tongue and at least one organ before he’d consider it even.”

“What would he do to my abusers?”

Probably the same thing I’d been fantasizing about. It was ironic that I’d spent most of my life trying to be better than Remo. “Torture them until they beg for death, until every part of their body is broken and their mind too. He’d make sure the other abusers would find out what’s happening so they’d piss their pants knowing they were next. He’d work his way up from the least guilty fucker to the number one, keeping the best for last.” My voice rang with eagerness and dark hunger. I raked a hand through my hair, my blood pounding in my veins.

Dinara regarded my face. “Sounds like you gave it plenty of thought.”

I smiled twistedly. “I’m a Falcone. Twisted shit is in my blood.”

She scooted closer and leaned over me, pushing me back. Her hair curtained our faces as she straddled my hips. She became serious. “There’s only one other thing that can help me move on. Not drugs, and definitely not forgiveness.”

“Tell me.” But deep down I knew what she wanted, what she’d ask of me, and with the same certainty I knew I wouldn’t deny her. Fuck, I wanted it to happen. I shouldn’t want it so much.

“Help me kill her, help me kill every single one of them.” She kissed me harshly then reached between us and rubbed me roughly through my pants. Gripping her neck, I returned the kiss with even more force. With a growl, I flipped us over and shoved down her shorts before I unzipped my pants. Sliding her panties to the side, I slammed into her in one hard stroke. She arched up with a moan. We locked gazes and in hers lay trust and an emotion we both couldn’t admit to. Only our pants and moans filled the emptiness as our bodies joined. More than the physical aspect I could feel how this moment brought us closer on an emotional level.

Afterward we lay beside each other, both of us silently watching the starry sky. Dinara took out a cigarette and lighted it then took a long drag before holding it out to me. I’d been trying to stop smoking again, but today wasn’t a good day to begin this quest, and I doubted the next few weeks would be better. I took the butt and inhaled deeply.

“And? Will you help me?”

I blew out a plume of smoke, blacking out the beautiful night sky. “Yes.”

There was no hesitation in my voice, not a flicker of doubt in my mind.

Dinara rested her head on my shoulder and I wrapped my arm around her. “I’ve never killed anyone. Not even really hurt anyone.”

I couldn’t say the same. As a Falcone, it had fallen upon me to become accustomed with violence from an early age. “If you can’t do it, I can do it for you.”

Dinara propped her head up. “No, I don’t want to use you as my assassin. That was never the plan. Fuck, when I came here to find out more about my past, I didn’t think it would end with me making a plan to go on a killing spree with you.”

I searched her face. I couldn’t detect a hint of a lie in her voice. “But you were curious about me and my brothers killing our mother.”

“Of course, I was. If you meet someone who’s stabbed their mother, it’s bound to be the most interesting thing about them, even if your life probably entails many interesting incidents.”

“Your father is Pakhan. Your life certainly hasn’t been boring either.”

Dinara’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “Dad tried to give me the life of a princess, or rather life of a tsarina. My wardrobes are filled with more dresses than I can ever wear and I own jewelry that’s worth many millions. There’s staff for every little demand in our home. I attended balls in Russia and parties in Chicago. I lived a boring life.”

“It sounds like you lived the life of someone else. I can’t imagine you in a ballgown, exchanging pleasantries with stuck-up people.”

“I felt like an impostor.”

“Then why did you do it? Why didn’t you tell your father that wasn’t you.”

“He knows that’s not me, but he hopes that’s who I could become. He thinks it’s a sign for my continued suffering that I don’t enjoy meaningless revelries like many other girls in our circle do. He thinks he could fix me by showing me that side of life. And I humor him because it makes him feel better. I see it as my job, and I get paid very well.”

I chuckled. “That’s one way of looking at it. But waltzing over dancefloors was only a small part of what you did.”

“Dima took me on adventures, to races and parties, to parts of Chicago I shouldn’t be setting foot in.”

“But your father knew.”

“Dima is his man. He tells him everything, but Dad accepted the untamable part of me and allowed me to live it, as long as he didn’t have to witness it.”

“Maybe he’ll eventually accept that this is who you are, untamable and strong, because you want to be, and not as a sign of past horrors.”

“Maybe,” she agreed but doubt filled the word. “You mentioned that your brother has the names and addresses of the men who molested me.”

“I’ll call him in the morning and ask him to email them to me.”

“He’ll probably be pissed if he finds out I’m dragging you into this mess with me.”

Remo was all for vengeance and bloody vendettas, especially if they involved horrible mothers, but he was certainly weary of Dinara’s motives. He thought he still needed to protect me when I was perfectly capable of protecting myself.

“I’ve been considering asking Dima to help me, maybe even my father. They both would kill every person who hurt me.”

I frowned. “I told you I’d help you. There’s no reason for you to ask anyone else, especially because Remo won’t be happy if your father breaches our territory.”

“I’d do it to show you that I’m not here because I need your help. I don’t want you to think what’s between us serves the purpose of making you help me. That’s not the case. I wanted information, that was it. Now that I have it, I wouldn’t need you anymore, especially now that I know that Remo is willing to give me all the info I need to get revenge.”

“Ouch,” I said dryly. “Good to know you don’t need me anymore.” I gave her a sarcastic smile.

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m here because I enjoy being with you, the sex, the talking, everything. I’m here because I want to be.”

I raked my fingers through her hair, enjoying the silky feel of it against my skin. Dinara had the softest hair I could imagine. “There’s no place I’d rather be than at your side, even if it involves brutal revenge.”

Dinara sighed. “What about after? When the revenge part is over. We are who we are.”

“You’ve said it before,” I murmured. “How about we take one day after the other?”

“Deal,” she said before she became silent for a couple of minutes. The tension entering her body told me her thoughts had drifted back to the past. “I think we need to make them watch the recordings when we confront them—before we deal with them.”

“That serves two purposes. They’ll be reminded of their sins and you’ll be angry enough to exact revenge.”

Dinara huffed out a dark laugh. “Do you think I’ll need further encouragement to kill them?”

“If you’ve never killed, maybe. The first kill is always the hardest.”

“Was it for you?”

“It was during an attack to save my own and my brothers’ lives, so I didn’t have time to think. I just pulled the trigger. My hardest kill was the one after, the one Remo had me do to become a Camorrista. He made me angry at the guy before I had to shoot him. It made things easier.”

“I suppose it does. I don’t think anger will be an issue, but what if I freeze up like I did with my mother? What if I become this helpless girl who can’t do anything?”

“I’ll be there to shake you out of it. If you really want to kill them, then I’ll make sure you can do it.”

“Fuck, we’re both twisted, you realize it, right?”

“I made my peace with it,” I said with an ironic smile. “Have you considered how you want to kill them? With a gun, quick and easy, or with a knife, more personal and given that you don’t have experience stabbing someone, more painful. You’ll probably need a few stabs to kill. Do you want to torture them in advance? Or do you have another death in mind?”

Dinara pressed her forehead against mine. “Maybe it’s a bad sign that none of what you just said freaked me out.”

“If me saying it would already freak you out, then we don’t have to hunt your abusers down.”

“Yeah…” Dinara breathed out slowly. “I think shooting our first victim would be best. That way I can get my first time over with quickly. I don’t think I could just shove a knife into someone, much less several times. Maybe I’ll consider it for the later kills.”

“I can show you how to do it. We could practice on the corpse of the first victim.”

Dinara laughed. “Now I’m a bit freaked out.”

“Bad enough to run away from me?” I murmured. In the past I’d always kept this part of me safely hidden, especially when I was around girls but even around my family. With Dinara, I felt as if I could finally reveal this twisted, morbid side of myself.

“Never,” she said firmly, nipping at my lower lip.

Eventually Dinara fell asleep in my arms and like so often before, she mumbled and twisted in her sleep. I brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, wondering if this path we’d embark on was the right choice for Dinara, if it would dispel her nightmares or only add new ones.

We left camp right after the next race. Adamo had printed out the list with the addresses of my abusers. I scanned the names but they didn’t mean anything to me. They’d never introduced themselves with their real names. The names didn’t hold the horrors of the past, but I knew their faces would. Even if they’d changed over the years, I’d recognize their eyes. Those always haunted me the most. The eagerness … the hunger…

Adamo and I checked into a shabby motel at the interstate right outside of Reno, a place more fitting for our journey than a nice hotel.

We’d only spend a night here before we’d finally set out to find the first person on our list tomorrow. My very first abuser. I stared up at the grayish-white motel ceiling, listening to Adamo taking a shower.

It wouldn’t be difficult to find him. He owned a hardware store in Reno where he worked six days a week. He was known as a sex offender. Since a conviction shortly after he’d abused me and a few years in prison, he had lived a solidary life. No family living nearby and if Adamo’s contacts were right, no close friends either. Adamo had done plenty of research since he’d received the list. He was determined to help me. His own demons powered him. Demons even more blood-thirsty than mine.

Adamo emerged from the bathroom in a plume of steam with only a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. Usually the sight of his abs and muscled chest always got me in the mood but today my mind whirled with too many thoughts of what lay ahead.

“You cut your hair,” I said quietly. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded strange, as if I was lost in another dimension.

Adamo came toward me and perched on the edge of the bed. I touched his short hair, gone the curls I could sink my fingers into.

“It’s easier to clean up. Things might get messy soon.”

He meant bloody. Soon things would get bloody. “Is blood difficult to wash out of hair?” I asked hoarsely. “Maybe I should cut my hair too.”

“No, keep your hair. I love it.” His brows furrowed. “Are you worried about tomorrow? He won’t escape, and if I can’t restrain him, which I doubt, I can still call reinforcement.”

“I’m not worried about that. I saw you fight Dima. I know you can handle even a capable fighter. I’m worried about myself.”

Adamo stretched out beside me, cloaking me in his fresh herbal shower gel scent. The bed creaked under the additional weight. “How you’ll handle the situation?”

I nodded and pointed at the new gun on my nightstand. Adamo had gotten it for me. “I held it in my hand this morning and imagined pulling the trigger while looking into the asshole’s eyes. In my imagination it felt good, it was easy, just a twitch of my finger, nothing more.”

Adamo leaned close, his lips brushing my ear. “If you’re asking if it’ll be as easy in reality, then I have to say probably not. We won’t know until the moment. Maybe you’ll pull the trigger without a second thought, or maybe you’ll realize you can’t follow through with our plan.”

“I have to.”

I didn’t want Adamo to be my executioner. I couldn’t put that burden on anyone else. “It’s my revenge. I should do it. With you at my side, I can do it.”

Adamo’s dark eyes met mine. “We can stop at any point. We don’t have to finish every name on that list. This is about helping you cope with what happened, not make it worse. And if you need me to do it, I’ll handle them all for you.”

If I’d only needed an executioner, I could have asked Dad to hunt down every single of my abusers. He would have gladly done it. He too yearned for a way to avenge me, and maybe even himself. That men had dared to lay hand on the daughter of a high-ranking Bratva member was like a slap in the face, even if my abusers didn’t know who I was.

The next morning, before Adamo and I set off to find guy number one on our list, we settled in front of his laptop to watch the disc with the recording of me with today’s target. The screen lit up with the image of a bed and a young version of myself perching on its edge with her hands in her lap, her eyes cast down. It was like watching someone else but I knew that would change the moment I started the recording. The girl’s horrors would become mine. The video would become reality in my head, would draw up memories of scents and sensations from the dark corners of my mind. I’d be dragged right back into the past. Adamo waited for me to hit play, his eyes kind and his expression patient.

I only stared at the screen, my body frozen. Past Dinara had her hair in pigtails, something that many of my abusers favored.

“We don’t have to watch,” Adamo said. “You know what happened. We know he’s guilty. There’s no reason to torture yourself with images from the past.”

I didn’t react, only stared at the screen. The problem was these images had haunted me almost every day since Dad had picked me up in Vegas over a decade ago.

“Or if you don’t want me to watch I can go for a walk until you’re done.”

Panic rushed through me at his suggestion, so I grabbed his hand, linking our fingers. “No,” I whispered harshly. “I can’t watch it alone. It’s bad enough that I relive it in my nightmares every night all alone.”

He squeezed my hand and my heart clenched with a mix of emotions at his support. Adamo had absolutely no reason to help me, but here he was. He was trying to keep his emotions under control for me but in his eyes, I could see many of my own emotions. The absolute hatred toward my abusers and the determination to exert revenge, and beneath all of that, an emotion both Adamo and I couldn’t risk given our families, our backgrounds…our futures. I’d been trying to ignore my feelings but looking at him now I couldn’t deny that I was falling for Adamo. It was absolutely insane and I was glad that our revenge plan would keep me too busy to consider the insanity of my heart’s choice.

I focused on the screen and hit play, my body tightening even more. The first guy on our list walked into the room. His smile was overly kind as he approached my past self, but beneath it, lingered eagerness and hunger. Soon his face appeared before my inner eye, no longer on the screen. My grip on Adamo’s hand tightened as I tried to keep my face neutral, wanting to be strong, even as revulsion and terror battled in my insides. My throat corded up and cold sweat broke out on my body, plastering my clothes to my body. When the man sat down beside young Dinara on the bed and touched her leg, I hit the pause button, stopping the video. I released a harsh breath, my pulse racing in my veins as past fears drove up my adrenaline. “I can’t watch it.”

“It’s okay. We can still dispose of all the discs.”

I shook my head. “We’ll take it with us to him today. I want him to watch it, even if I can’t do it.”

“All right,” Adamo said simply. I kissed him before I scooted to the edge of the bed.

“Let’s go now.” I needed to move before I lost courage. Locked into this motel room I felt like a caged animal.

Adamo didn’t hesitate. He stuffed the disc and the laptop into a bag before he followed me. He’d asked if I wanted him to pack material for torture but I had said no. Killing another person would be challenge enough. Torture was out of the question, even if every single of my abusers deserved it. I wanted them dead. That would be enough.

Adamo parked at the curb across from the hardware store where the guy worked and also lived in a backroom. It was already late in the afternoon and the shop was supposed to close in half an hour. We didn’t talk as we sat together in the car. Adamo had grabbed a bag with donuts but I couldn’t force more than a bite past my corded-up throat. My heart hadn’t stopped pounding since we’d watched the first few minutes of the video. I felt as if I were the prey and not the hunter.

My hands were clammy, and I was glad for Adamo at my side because he looked remarkably calm.

“It’s time,” he said eventually, and I realized that almost thirty minutes had passed without me realizing it. “He’ll close the shop any minute now.”

“Okay,” I croaked.

Adamo grabbed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. “We should go now so we can slip in as last-minute customers. Breaking in poses the risk of alerting the police. This isn’t Las Vegas, we don’t have every police officer on our payroll.”

I swallowed and nodded, but I couldn’t move. Tears of anger at myself welled up and I blinked them back. “I—”

“I’ll go alone and kill him for you, unless you don’t want me to do it?”

I wanted my abuser dead, I wanted to do it myself, but maybe I was too weak to do it. I gave the tiniest nod, even as I hated myself for it. Adamo gave me a kiss and got out of the car before he grabbed the bag from the trunk. He jogged over to the hardware store and not a minute too soon. A guy had appeared at the door to turn the sign to closed. Adamo flashed him a charming smile and was allowed inside. Both men disappeared from my view and soon after Adamo hung up the closed sign before he headed back out of sight again.

I glared down at my hands, furious at myself for allowing someone else to dish out my revenge.