Wrath (Malice Mafia, #2)

by Coralee June

Rotted, severed limbs coated in a rancid mixture of blood and mud surrounded me. The air smelled unforgiving. It was a stench that danced all around us. Earthy. Deadly.

But oddly enough, my humanity died when I fell in love. It was the price I had to pay for selling my soul to three monsters.

Anthony, Nick, and William still fought over me, but Nick? Nick claimed me. He destroyed the competition.

Our eyes connected just as I felt my consciousness fall. This was wrong. And when my mind faded into nothingness, I wondered if Anthony Civella would ever be whole enough to love me.

If Juliet needed a break, then she could take a fucking vacation on my cock.

“You’re out. Done. If I see you in my territory again—” “You’re kicking me out?” There was a sobriety in his tone that hadn’t been there for weeks. Good. Let it fucking sink in. “If I see you in Kansas City, I’ll put a bullet through your brain.”

Love was a parasite draining me dry.

“You think I don’t know every hair on your head? The color of your skin when it bruises? The fear in your eyes? The way you tremble when you’re scared? I know every fucking nuance of your body, Juliet. I know your mind. In fact, I’ve crawled inside every fucking crack in your soul and built a home for myself there. Not only did you lie to me, but you insulted our relationship by pretending I couldn’t see how much you’re suffering right now.”

“Anthony needs to fight for himself. I think time is the best thing we can give him right now. Would you rather drag a broken man back to his dungeon, or welcome a healed man back into your arms?”

Money was just another word for power. The powerless scream. Wealth whispers.

I wasn’t a Civella. I was a man deeply, irrevocably in love with Juliet. Whatever the fuck that meant, that’s what I was.

“The measure of a person isn’t what they can give in a relationship. It’s how they love. Not how much.”

And with those parting words, he spun around, grabbed my cart, and strolled toward the checkout counter like he didn’t just finger fuck me on aisle nine.

The jealousy simmering around me was going to boil me alive, and I had no idea how we could possibly get to a place where we were okay again.

Something told me that I won this battle, but he would win the war.

Malice and I had become pen pals. Except we weren’t writing letters, we were just mailing a necklace back and forth. Every night, I’d drop it off in his mailbox, and every morning, it would be back in mine.

“Love was never the problem, Malice,” I croaked out. “I do love you, I just need you to love me back in the way I deserve, not just on your terms.”

“It’s simple really,” I mumbled, even though it was far from the truth. “I love them all. I just need them to love me back the way I deserve.” Vicky put the car in drive and merged back onto the highway. “Damn right you do. Give them hell, bestie.”

“I’ve let you fuck me with a chill on my skin. I’ve buried bodies. I’ve waited. I’ve danced around your needs and never once complained. And it’s not working, Anthony. So either you’re going to feel alive with me or this relationship will die.”

Gentle, gentle, gentle. In and out. In and out. I was going to do better. I was going to be better. I was going to be worthy of this beautiful woman I didn’t deserve.

“We want to be wherever Juliet is,” William argued. “You could have flown her first class, and we would have walked to Miami if necessary.”

Vicky was a motherfucking liar. Anthony was a dead man. William was about as useful as wet tissue paper, and my ass? My pathetic ass was pussy-whipped. Cora’s cannibalistic brother was supposedly hunting Vicky down. Boo-hoo.

“You always said you wanted a man that would lavish you with gifts. Just because they’re handmade doesn’t mean they aren’t just as special,”

“I’m gonna work hard to be worthy of you,” he then said. “That’s the thing, Nick, I never asked you to prove yourself. I just wanted you. I don’t need the walls you’re willing to build around me. I don’t need your financial security. I don’t need your protection or your gifts. I need your time and love and acceptance. I need room to breathe, and trust. More than anything, I need trust.”

“I don’t swat at flies, Anthony. I strap bombs to their chests and watch them light up the sky like fucking fireworks,”

I hated fire. I hated how the smoke wrapped around my naked body, stinging my skin with defiant embers. I hated the smell of burnt flesh, the ashes heavy on my tongue, my charred soul like splinters deep in my chest.

William was the only one to stop me from jumping into the flames. He wrapped his arms around me as I cried out. I hated him for saving me, for loving me. All of this started because I made a choice. Because I fell in love. Because I was a lonely girl clinging to dangerous men. She was dead because of them.

It’s time to go, guys. There’s only room for me here now. I gave you my madness, and you threw it back at me. Goodbye, friends.