Dark Souls

67.knockout

Wolf's Palermo Estate finally comes to view as Russo drives through its gated entryway.

I had to come back for my motorcycle and some other belongings. If that wouldn't have been the case I would've asked Russo and Victor to just drop me off at the Coppola's for a quicker and less painful death in Victoria's hands.

Wolf stayed at Villa Salve. He stood there, under the rain, watching me go with such indifference that every time I remember his eyes it's a fucking stab to my chest, killing me slowly.

The few seconds it took me to get inside the SUV, I prayed more than ever. Prayed for him to tell me not to go, at least not until we talked things through. Apparently no god wants to answer my prayers today.

I've been sitting in silence the whole drive. Victor and Russo haven't said a word either. They must be uncomfortable as fuck after that vulnerability show I gave them. I exposed my weak side, a side I hadn't shown in so long that I couldn't help but feel embarrassed of myself, especially since I'm sure I'm not the first woman to act like this after being rejected by Wolf.

Just another name on his fuck list, my subconscious reminds me, pulling out a long piece of paper with dozens of names printed on it and proceeds to neatly write my name on it.

I shrink in the backseat, letting out a quiet, depressed sigh.

I quickly wipe my moist eyes with my fingertips, making sure Russo and Victor don't see me like this again.

Fuck, I promised myself that I wouldn't cry over stupid shit. I did too much of that in my past life, to the point that I thought I had no tears left within me anymore. But then, I came here, and Wolf kissed me opening the fucking gates of hell.

A bittersweet hell.

Kat, maybe it will be better if we let him go, my subconscious says, now waving two large, red flags.

I can't and I won't. Not until he tells me what's really going on, cause what the hell could it be?

Has Victoria done or said something to him? My mother is a sneaky bitch, that wouldn't be a surprise.

Or did we meet in New York while I was a drunk and always high? Maybe I cussed him the fuck out?

Hmm, thats exactly something you'd do, my subconscious gives me a disappointed look.

No, no. I don't think he'd be this mad at me just for telling him to fuck off.

I close my eyes and rub my temples, soothing my sudden headache.

Fuck, I need a fight.

Wait, what? ANOTHER FIGHT?! My subconscious panics.

Yes, I need physical pain right now, one that would help me forget my stupid, aching heart.

And I already knew the perfect person to help me out with that.

My gaze is on Victor, carefully studying his moves like if he's my fucking prey.

He gets out of the SUV and starts walking away.

"Hey, Victor," I call out, catching up to him, but staying a few feet behind.

"What?" He snaps, in what sounds gibberish.

When he turns around, I throw him a punch slow enough for him to dodge.

He ducks and immediately throws me an upper cut with his right hand, delivering it right to my chin and sending me stumbling backwards to the hard ground.

I fall on my back, taking in the sweet and torturing pain.

"Fucking asshole," I whisper to myself, grunting in pain as I wither on the dirt.