Home > Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles #6)(43)

Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles #6)(43)
Author: Cora Reilly

“I know. That’s why I asked someone if they could buy me stuff. I anticipated that I’d have a hard time getting anything myself because people seem to think you can decide what I do or don’t do.”

“You didn’t come to me.”

“You wouldn’t have sold me drugs, or would you? Judging from your pissed look, I’ll get a lecture now. I’m really not sure if I have the brain capacity after last night.”

“No, of course I won’t let you buy drugs! I took the shit myself. Heroin, cocaine, even crystal. I know what it does to the body. It ruins you. Your body, your mind, everything.”

 

 

I laughed bitterly. “I have danced with the devil before. I know what it does.” Part of me was glad for Adamo’s concern but the bigger part felt caught and defensive. I was so tired, from last night, from trying to forget my twisted feelings. At the party and with Adamo, I’d forgotten about my mother for a few hours, but this morning everything had slammed right back into me. I couldn’t escape reality, at least not for long, not without my old vices.

“How long have you been clean?”

I closed the hood and sighed. “Almost a year now.”

Worry and frustration battled in Adamo’s eyes. “And now you want to throw it out of the window, for what?”

I’d thought the exact same thing the first night after our return from Vegas, alone in my tent after everyone had refused to sell me stuff. For a moment I’d considered driving to the next big city, a place where nobody recognized me, much less knew that I was Adamo’s girl, how everyone around here called me. With the last shreds of my resolve, I’d stayed put and spent most of the night staring at the ceiling of my tent, too afraid to fall asleep and be haunted by new memories, awakened by my recent trip to Vegas. Becoming clean and staying clean had been a struggle. This was the longest I’d succeeded to stay away from drugs since I was fourteen and I’d almost thrown it all away because of my mother. She’d ruined my life once and I’d almost given her the power to do it again. I was furious at myself, but as usual too proud to admit it.

I glared. “You can’t even imagine what kind of images my mind’s been replaying since I saw my mother. So much buried shit has come up. It’s eating away at me, and I know the only way to stop it is to knock myself out with drugs.”

Adamo moved closer. I could tell that he wanted to touch me, maybe even hug me, and I wanted him to, but still I didn’t move. Last night our bodies had joined, fueled by passion and exhilaration, now every touch would be filled with emotions I didn’t want to deal with. “The memories come back twice as bad once the effect wanes off, Dinara. You can’t escape them. I tried too.”

Fuck, it took every ounce of restraint not to fly into his arms. I wanted to be held by him, but I didn’t want to look weak. Though, it was probably a little too late for that. In Vegas, I’d completely lost it. Seeing my mother had twisted my insides, had made me feel like a little girl. She’d changed so much over the years since Dad didn’t pay for her beauty treatments anymore and she worked as a cheap whore, but my mind had pulled up past images.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked quietly, moving a bit closer to him.

“Whatever it is, I’m there for you, but you don’t need drugs, Dinara.”

“You don’t know what I need. You can’t. Not until you’ve lived what I have. The only thing that makes the pain go away for a while are the drugs.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

He was right. I’d fought too hard to get where I was now. Adamo touched my cheek and I leaned into him. “We’ll figure out a way for you to move past this shit. Together.”

I nodded. “Together.”

 

 

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.

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