Dark Castle by Shanna Handel

4

Willow

I’m a virgin.A never-even-been-kissed twenty-four-year-old virgin who bakes bread and does crafts for fun. Pathetic, right?

What’s even more pathetic?

I’ve fallen for a bad boy. One who barely acknowledges my existence. I stare at the bare-chested pirate on the front of my favorite bodice-ripper romance novel. Its pages are dog-eared, its cover worn from re-reading.

I trace the hero’s abs with the tip of my finger. “You’d never ignore me, would you, Ricardo?”

I’m trying to read, but all I can think about is him. Santo Russo. He’s the dark prince of the family, a bad boy who likes fast cars and fast women. Not innocent little virgins like me who were raised in the woods baking bread and making fairy gardens.

Whenever I see him, I try to catch his eye, but he avoids mine. Cecily swears he’s interested, but that he doesn’t want to corrupt a good girl like me.

I know the truth—even if he was interested in me, which he’s so clearly not, my overprotective older sister Briar has threatened him with death if he so much as touches me.

God, I’m sick of being the good girl.

Always doing what needs to be done with a smile on my face. I’m the chore girl. The Cinderella of the castle, dutifully running about helping anyone in need.

There’s a spill? I’m there with a lemon-scented mop. Someone needs a sitter? I tuck crayons and cookies in my apron pockets and rush to the nursery. One of our men is out on patrol and missed lunch? Ham and cheese sandwich coming right up.

But I’m no bitter Cinderella. I actually love my job. I love taking care of the castle and the people around me.

That’s the truth.

But for once, couldn’t I be naughty? Couldn’t I do something…surprising? Unexpected? Something…rash?

“Willow!” Posie comes stomping into the kitchen, her hands flying to her hips. “You’re supposed to take me to Aldo for target practice.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” I quickly flip the book over, hiding Ricardo’s oiled washboard abs from my little sister. She’s twelve, almost thirteen, going on forty, but no need to corrupt her.

I follow behind her, her cowgirl boots stomping against the stone as she goes. She’s got a knife tucked in the leather belt that’s holding up her jeans. Her hair is in a high ponytail that I helped her secure this morning. She’s ready for action.

Our brother-in-law Aldo waits for us in the bailey. His shirt is off, his skin tanning in the warm sun. The colorful tattoos on his arms are beautiful, but it’s his newest one that catches my eye.

It’s my sister’s name, Briar, written in swirling black letters over his heart, the r turning into a deep red rose, its petals touching the edges of his faint scar. A man who would tattoo your name over his heart; I want a love like that.

A tiny drop of jealousy fills me, and I have to look away.

Aldo’s teaching Posie to shoot and hit the center of a paper target tacked to a stack of hay bales. She’s cute, even with the gun in her hands. She’s got one eye closed tight behind her protective eyewear, the tip of her pink tongue sticking out over her bottom lip as she concentrates. That faint, hazy blue cloud surrounds her every time she focuses on her target, disappearing just as she pulls the trigger.

The Russos have all gotten used to the fact that Posie’s just a little bit…different. Thank God, her episodes and premonitions haven’t come back since Aldo’s full recovery. They were terrifying. She’d just go into this trance-like state, talking gibberish, making crazy proclamations about the future.

Briar and I were so relieved when they stopped, but sometimes Posie still gets that faraway look in her eyes, or like now, when she’s really concentrating, that blue haze comes back. Her aura, shining around her like a full body halo. Magic runs in our blood.

Some in the village say my mother was a witch. Sophia, a woman who’s deemed herself everyone’s grandmother and runs the day-to-day operations of the castle knows there’s a little bit of hocus-pocus surrounding us Rosa girls but tells us not to worry.

She says Posie’s aura, the color running somewhere between blue and turquoise, means Posie is intuitive, devoted, and loyal, a healer, but also ready to be seen as a leader.

Maybe that’s why the little spitfire is so insistent on these target practices. She’s probably got her eye on being the first female to lead this mafia.

On her fifth try, Posie hits the bullseye. Her eyes immediately seek mine, openly searching for praise. “Did you see that, Willow? Did you see it?”

“Good job, Posie! You did it.” My chest constricts at the idea of her in danger, of her holding a gun against an enemy, but I push it down, offering her a tight smile.

She runs over to me, throwing herself in my arms for one of her now-rare hugs. I cherish the moment, smoothing my hand over her silky hair, feeling happy she’s so happy.

“Come on, it’s time for school. You can shoot tomorrow. Tell Aldo ‘thank you’.” I take her hand, leading her back to the castle.

Once I’ve got her settled, a staff member finds me, telling me Sophia’s having an emergency in the kitchen, that she’s short on flour. I rush to find a bag for her from the storeroom.

It’s not like I have anything better to do.

Boredom edges its way into my mind. I’m bored with my days. I’m bored with myself. Face it, Willow, you’re bored because you’re boring. Plain and simple. When I get to the kitchen, my dress is covered in white patches from the loosely sealed bag.

Santo is here.

His tongue runs absently over those perfect lips, and I can’t look away. My heart starts thrumming and my lungs do that funny thing where they want to stop working.

God, I wish he didn’t have this effect on me. And yet, I never feel more alive than I do when I’m in the same room as him. I quickly realize there’s plenty of flour in this kitchen, that Sophia only wanted to tease me, to see how deeply I’d blush in his presence.

I hear her cackling laughter as I leave.

As I’m passing through the foyer, I glance out the window. Santo’s prized possession, an electric blue Ferrari, is parked out front. I’ve heard when he’s on Russo property, he leaves the keys in the ignition.

There’s still tension between the families, issues not fully resolved. The men have made us promise to stay close to the castle, but the need to do something different, something risky, something exciting overwhelms me. I’ve got to get out of here.

I’ve got somewhere I need to be. Usually, I walk. Today, I think I’ll go for a drive.

My heart beats fast in my chest as I slip onto the black leather seat. His car smells so good. Like leather and man and him. I turn the key and the engine roars to life. Startled by the sound, I look around, sure I’m caught.

No one is watching.

I roll down the driveway slowly, getting the feel of the car beneath me. How will I get past the guards without them noticing me? I look around the car, finding a beanie and a wide pair of men’s sunglasses. I twist my hair on top of my head, stuffing it into the cap, and slip on the glasses.

The gate is open. Tawdry, one of the older guards, stands with his back to me, leaning against the stone like he’s napping. I can get past him, easily. I sink down in my seat, squaring my shoulders like a man.

If I want to be mistaken for Santo, I have to go fast. Otherwise the army of mafia men will come raining down on me, surrounding this car. My foot hovers over the accelerator pedal…

And I smash it.

I fly down the road, my tires spinning and shooting gravel as I go. I blow past Tawdry, through the gates and down the road. Did anyone see me? Is anyone stopping me? I glance at the rearview mirror only to see Tawdry choking on my dust.

He looks slightly annoyed, but nowhere near curious.

He thought I was Santo. I actually pulled it off! Adrenaline rushes through me and I pump my fist in the air. “Woohoo! I did it.” I snatch the hat from my head and glasses from my face, tossing them onto the empty seat beside me.

I’m free. The bad girl, stealing cars and going for a joy ride. It feels good, for once, to not do the right thing. The sun is shining, and I enjoy the view of the creek winding its way beside the road.

I come up to the bend that leads off Russo property, toward the forest. The curve of the road is tighter than I anticipate. “Oh, shoot!” I cling to the wheel, using my entire body to steer as I try to keep the expensive car on the road.

He’s going to kill me when he finds out.

If I don’t kill myself first.

I mean to hit the brake, but instead my foot slams on the gas. “What was I thinking!” I howl as I accelerate. I thought I had the hang of this!

I’ve only driven once before. Sophia was too drunk to drive and needed to go into town for those little pink mints she craves. She was an amazingly patient teacher. Even though her words slurred a bit, she had me driving us all the way to the store and back, no issues. Sophia said I was a natural, that I learned far more quickly than most.

She made me think I was a good driver.

But her little station wagon was no match for this machine. I get why they call it horsepower. Driving this thing feels no different than when I rode bareback on a stallion last week, hoping for the same break in boredom, the same high I was hoping for now.

“Shoot!” I bank another curve, putting all my focus into staying between the lines on the road. I exhale the breath I’m holding. “Come on, Willow. You had the nerve to steal the car, now have the guts to drive it. You’ve got this.”

I will the fear to drain from my body and stop thinking. I let the muscle memory come back to me. I think of driving Sophia’s car through the dark night, and I relax against the buttery leather seat.

I take the next curve with ease. Hey! I’m doing it.

A smile slides across my face as I press down on the gas pedal. Thirty, forty, fifty. Heck yes, I can do this. My fingers loosen their hold on the wheel. I take a deep breath as I stare out the windshield.

The sea is to my right, waves crashing onto a rocky shore. The tall trees of the thick forest to my left. It’s so beautiful here an outsider would never guess the dark secrets these lands hold.

So. Many. Secrets.

The joy eases its way from my body as the weight of my guilt settles in my stomach. I have secrets of my own. I knew exactly where I was taking this car when I left the castle. I’m going to meet him.

Again.