Broken Bride

His hands are all over me, grasping me in my most sensitive areas. He doesn’t seem to notice. He just wants me out of the way of the fight which has broken out in my bedroom.

Angelo and Bobby are like wild animals. The old silverback and the would-be alpha, battling for supremacy. Bobby is giving as good as he is getting. I see him punching back, though Angelo is quick enough to dodge most of them and the ones he takes just seem to be absorbed. They make them hard in Sicily.

Angelo’s not weak yet, though, and he’s prepared to fight dirty. After trading senseless blows and attempting various lock and holds and still not managing to pin Bobby into submission, he pulls a gun out of the holster at his back and presses the barrel to Bobby’s temple.

“Fucking loser,” Bobby hisses, even as the fight goes out of him.

“That’s a matter of perspective.” Angelo doesn’t sound out of breath, but he’s got cuts on his face where Bobby’s big fist made rough contact. His shirt is ripped, his hair a mess. He’s a massive animal of a man, and he reigns supreme again.

“It’s too late,” Bobby laughs through bloodied teeth. “I came inside her. You haven’t had the balls to do that, have you, Angelo.”

Angelo narrows his eyes at Bobby. “Why would you do a stupid thing like that?”

“Because what’s yours is mine. And if you can’t handle what’s yours, I’ll take it.”

“Idiot,” Angelo curses. “Mark, get him out of here.”

Mark helps Bobby out of the room. He’s dripping blood from his mouth and from a cut above his eye. I know he’s gotten off lightly really so far, but adrenaline is coursing hot through my veins.

“Angelo…”

Angelo gives me a curt look, turns, and leaves as well. I find myself sitting alone in my bedroom, covered in Bobby’s come, and wondering just how badly I’ve fucked up this time.

It’s not long before Angelo returns. He has a pill in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. He holds the pill out to me with an expression which strongly suggests I comply and take it.

“What’s this?”

“Morning after pill.”

I’ve never considered taking one of these before. Never thought I would need to. I find myself hesitating.

“Do you really want a baby here? In this house? With Bobby?” Angelo asks me three deeply effective questions. I reach out, and I swallow that pill so damn fast I barely feel it on my tongue.

Angelo hands me the water along with an apology. “I’m sorry for what happened to you tonight. I should have done better at keeping you safe. I never thought Bobby would stoop so low as to…”

“Bobby didn’t take me against my will,” I tell Angelo. Honesty might be a mistake, but I’m afraid someone is going to get seriously hurt. Maybe Bobby. Maybe me.

“You wanted to sleep with him?” The question comes precariously softly.

“I did.”

“Ah.”

I watch Angelo’s face carefully. Is he angry with me? He should be. I’m his wife and I just fucked his lover. That’s unorthodox at the very least. Cheating at worst, though it didn’t feel like cheating.

“So you are as much to blame as he is.”

I draw my legs up toward my chest and look at Angelo with wide eyes. “What are you going to do to me?”

“What should I do to my wife who allowed herself to be seduced by another man?” The question is casual, but it comes with the darkest undertones possible.

My chest gets tight and I hear a sudden ringing in my ears. I must have lost my fucking mind. I got carried away with Bobby; I forgot, for a moment, how brutal possessive men can be when they think something that belongs to them has been taken and used.

Suddenly, I’m remembering things that happened a long time ago. Things that should never have happened. Things that left scars on my soul which will never heal.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Tears start to well and I press myself back against the headboard of the bed in terror. “Please don’t kill me.”

Angelo raises a brow. “Kill you?”

“My father killed my mother for sleeping with another man. He told me himself, when I was five years old. He told me my mother was dead because she was a whore.”

Angelo’s face contorts with fury for a second, before returning to equanimity.

“Killing you would be excessive,” Angelo says. “Your father was an unmitigated bastard, and the world is considerably better off for his absence.”

I breathe a little more deeply as he sits down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“You’re in trouble,” he says. “But I don’t hate you, and I have no intention of harming you in any way. Ever. I never want you to fear for your life, Tilly. I will do anything to protect you.”