Dark Desire

Chapter One

MARIANA

17 missed calls laid untouched on my phone as I roamed the dimly-lit street reeking of beer and smoke and sweat. An open bar stood around the corner, explaining the origin of the stench that almost made me throw up. I walked closer to it, dragging the soles of my heel across the pavement.

I wanted to feel different for the night. I needed to drown on the bitter taste of alcohol and dance and forget the life I had left behind in Vernazza—a small town in Italy where I grew up in, where I studied, where I made friends, where I fell in love, and eventually, where I became stuck and stagnant. It transformed from a comfortable and safe little village to my own personal pretty prison.

I've grown to realize over the last few years that my life in Vernazza would always remain the same. It was beautiful, secure, and nothing short of lovely but it was not me. I was not the girl who walked around the streets in a bright Sunday dress carrying pastries and smiling at everyone. I was not the girl who would stay another dreadful year in med school to please her parents. I was not the girl who wanted to give her virginity to the childhood best friend she had always been destined to marry.

I wanted to leave Vernazza, and I did. I left at the worst possible timing. Right before I was about to emerge from the gigantic church doors to walk down the isle where Louis Sinclair stood perfectly in his white tux, waiting for me. I was supposed to exchange scripted vows with him, kiss him, finally pop my cherry on our honeymoon, get pregnant after a year, possibly another after a year, and then what?

I was never going to leave Vernazza if I walked that isle, if I never ditched my wedding gown for a pair of skinny jeans and combat boots and stole a motorbike to the airport and hopped on the first plane I could get tickets on.

Sure, guilt was following me every step I took away from Vernazza, away from my parents, away from my fiancé, and away from my friends. But there was excitement too. I had no suitcase, only my phone and my wallet in hands. I had no plans, no place to stay, but somehow, all that uncertainties gave me a sense of relief. I could start over. A blank slate. Risks and challenges would greet me, they were inevitable, but I would welcome them.

12 hours later, I've landed on Seattle and instead of looking for a place to stay, I found myself in desperate need to approach the open bar with 'Helion's' written on the sign in capital, neon letters. Heavy music and the crowded dance floor were the first ones to greet my senses. The next were the heat that made me shake off my jacket and a few men who asked if they could buy me a drink. I humored the one with tattoos. I only had a few American dollars in my wallet and if I planned on staying at a hotel for a few nights, the least I could do was not to turn down free drinks.

The man who told me his name was Jackson, grabbed us seats from the center of the bar—closest to the bartender's attention—and ordered two whiskey sours. We drank and head straight to the dance floor, squirming next to sweaty people who were either too drunk to stand up straight or too horny not to grind against the person closest to them. At some point, I lost touch with Jackson and found myself sandwiched between a petite blonde and a guy who could pass for an 80's goth.

"I'm Amelia!" The blonde yelled through the music, leaning closer to my ear. "You look gorgeous, what's your name?"

Before I could open my mouth to reply, the goth guy pressed himself on my backside and dropped his chin on my shoulder, his chest shaking as he laughed at blondie. "She's not lesbian, Ams. I could smell her love for men all the way from the other end of the dance floor."

Amelia huffed. "Bet I could get you to make out with me though, whatchu say?" She winked at me and pulled her ridiculously tight blouse further down to show her cleavage.

"Please, she'd rather kiss me." Goth guy countered and grasped my hips. "Right, hottie?"

If I were still the girl in Vernazza, I would have been repulsed. But the girl who chose to runaway from her wedding grinned at the two wildcats pressing on her. "I'm not kissing either of you! These lips are reserved for someone else."

They both groaned in unison. "Tell me you're not one of those clichés." Amelia complained at the same time Goth guy pointed, "You have an accent. You're Italian?"

I nodded and goth guy's eyes glinted with excitement while Amelia still couldn't get over the fact that I would never kiss her or anyone else in the bar. "Are you married? Wait, don't tell me. Are you a virgin?"

And she hit the jackpot.

Though I refused to either confirm nor deny her questions, the answer must have already been written all over my face because Amelia's eyes widen but they were no longer pointed at me but to goth guy.

"Lance! You know what this means right?"

Goth guy who was actually named Lance, detached himself from me and walked over to face Amelia, their faces suddenly serious and inches apart as they converse. "She better not be lying or we're going to end up dead by morning."

"Who would lie about being a virgin, Lance? This is our only chance. Let's take her to Wolff and get our money."

A frown took place on my face. It was either someone spiked my drink or they were actually talking about selling me out. Either way, it was bad bad news. "What are you guys talking about?"

Both turned to me. Amelia looked determined, a hint of treacherous touch in her dark eyes. Lance, however, looked doubtful, almost sorry.

The next thing I knew, they were dragging me out of the bar, both of their arms hooked on each of mine. Their grasps were firm, even Amelia's despite being small and a few inches shorter than me.

"What's going on?" I thrashed, trying to break free from two people I should have never danced with in the first place if I knew how dangerous they were.

They didn't answer me. They hauled me to a black van that reeked of weed and other scents that threatened to gag the whiskey out of my system.

"This isn't funny." I growled, uselessly forcing locked doors to open. "Let me out. I don't have money. I'm a fucking tourist."

Amelia snorted at the passenger seat, eyeing me through the rear-view mirror with her heavily black-lined eyes. Gone was the flirty girl who wanted to make out with me. "You could have saved yourself the trouble if you weren't a virgin."

Anger surged through me for the first time in a long time, the feeling too foreign I had trouble containing it. "What the hell does being a virgin have to do with this? This is illegal! I could press charges."

Lance hopped onto the driver's seat, wasting no time to fire up the engine and drive. "No, you wouldn't. I bet you'd even like what we're about to do. Hell, you might even thank us days later."

Thank them?

"You people are sick!" I spat before I dragged my unsteady feet towards the car door, punching and bumping my shoulders against the window. I attempted to kick the handles but they were not rusty and old. They were brand new and sturdy.

I climbed through the back, kicking everything and testing for a weak spot. When nothing budged, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I did not just escape my life in Vernazza to be kidnapped by two society rejects. I would rather kill myself.

From the front, I heard Lance's cold laugh and Amelia's snicker. "Oh, she'd definitely be a tough one for Wolff."

"Bet you 20 bucks she won't get out alive. She's too pretty. Wolff won't be able to resist himself."

At his words, I threw up.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Relax, sweetheart. It would be any woman's dream death." Amelia laughed.

They were still laughing when black dots started forming in my vision and I felt my head hit something hard before I collapsed.