***
Shoving me against one of the eggshell coloured walls, Max wrapped his rough fingers around my throat. "You think you're so fucking smart, don't you..." He breathed, glaring at me with a new emotion...hatred. He hadn't hated me before and this new revelation made him unpredictable. I would have changed my game plan all together if his sadistic, erotic desires didn't so obviously still linger behind all that crazy. "I'm going to enjoy this-" He seethed, tracing my jawline with his nose "-you think I'm a monster...well Barbas is the fucking Devil himself, and he's been real anxious to meet you." He hissed, thrilled by the prospect of watching me suffer at the hands of his employer."Are you done?" I deadpanned, the smart-ass in me awakening to rejoice as the fine slither of restraint Barbas' minion held, slowly slipped away. Clenching his jaw, he gripped my arm above the elbow. Roughly tugging me up the creaking wooden stairs, he shoved me in front of himself. "You don't think the restraints are a bit much? After all, I'm only a five-foot, hundred and ten pound little girl, Max...whatever could I possibly do to the Devil" Pouting, I threw my head back and let out a laugh that echoed down the dimly lit hall.
"Shut up." He growled, shoving me harder. Considering the depressing decor hadn't rung any of my—suppressed memory— bells, I chocked my earlier trip down memory lane up to adrenalin. There must have been plenty of homes on the outskirts of New Orleans with exteriors that resembled this haunted crap shack. The hallway was wide and the walls flanking it were lined with three doors each. Stopping between two of the doors, I stared at a small wooden frame. Encased behind the murky glass was an old monochromatic photograph. It appeared to be of a family, two boys standing in front of a slim woman with thick black curls and a tall, dark-skinned man. Their facial features however were indiscernible, having been deliberately scratched away.
"That's not a red flag..." I muttered dryly. "This your doing Albert Fish, sorry...do you prefer to be referred to as 'the Bogey Man' or maybe 'the Brooklyn Vampire'..." Slamming me against the wall, he forced the back of my head to whip back against the glassed face of the photo frame. Biting back a wince, I clenched my jaw. "Shit...did I piss you off, you gunna use your 'instruments from hell' on me now?" Chuckling, I mocked him further. Fisting my hair he snapped my head up.
"If you'd ever had the misfortune of meeting a real psychopath...then you'd know beautiful girls shouldn't provoke one's compulsions." Grating the words out, he gripped my right thigh and pressed his thumb against my unhealed wound with a menacing grin.
"Do you have some sort of fucking brain damage? You're a psychopath for sure Max...heavy on the psycho." Smirking, I watched that familiar flicker of impatience shoot through his eyes. "You wanna punish me right now...don't you? You sadistic fuck-" wrapping his hand around my throat, he squeezed my trachea firmly. Struggling against him I tried to blink away the dark spots appearing in my vision. When he'd squeezed hard enough for my air-pipes to scream in agony, I drove my knee into his crotch. Releasing me abruptly, he doubled over cupping his manhood. Coughing, I kicked out his left leg, forcing him to his knees.
Growling he readied himself to lunge at me once more. "Mi hijo! That is enough." Breathing heavily, he punched through the wall beside my head—like a little brat throwing a tantrum over play-time being cut short. "Amorcito..." Clenching my jaw tighter, I glared past Max. Stepping out of the shadows the woman, I'd always respected and loved as a mother, walked towards us. "I said, that is enough." She hissed, pulling away the arm caging me against the wall with a violent yank. Caressing the sides of my face, she drew me into a warm embrace. Swallowing hard, I banished my traitorous tears. Stroking her fingers through my hair, she frowned down at my restraints. This doesn't affect you, Annie. She's playing you, she has always been playing you!
YOU ARE READING
New Orleans
Romance18+ | BOOK #1 in La Cosa Nostra series | COURSE LANGUAGE | VIOLENCE | SEXUAL REFERENCES Welcome to New Orleans; good food, good music, the French quarter, Mardi Gra and the occasional dead body... Following the mysterious disappearance of her fath...