Brutal & Raw: Mafia Romance & Psychological Thriller (Beneventi Family Book 1) by Sonya Jesus

Author:Sonya Jesus [Jesus, Sonya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-22T18:30:00+00:00

13

Worse or Worst

327

The bright yellow walls of my room contradict the morose mood I’m in. Breaking out of my own head is almost as impossible as escaping The Farm. Everything Addie said made sense, but I don’t want to believe it. Her truths don’t have to be my truths, I tell myself as I take a seat on the edge of the bed and kick my sneakers off. It’s not like she told me anything new, anyway.

Shit people do shitty things, and good people usually struggle to survive, not that I’m good or anything. My past sure as hell doesn’t leave room for wholesomeness, and I’m barely managing to survive. Debatably. Breathing and functioning, that’s as good as it’s going to get for me.

But not for Kelsie. Sure, we share similar circumstances at the moment, but she’s different. For her, being battered isn’t broken, and I envy that about her. I’d give anything to be happy despite all the crap in my life.

Addie believes she’s not coming back, just when I was starting to like her.

My jealous thoughts lack malevolence. I wish no ill will on her, but I’m sorry she left before I could learn how to smile from her. Crazy how I notice every time I smile because the movement is so unfamiliar. She did it with ease, a random smile there and a small burst of laughter after, not at all like any of the women sheltered at the center. Here, happiness is either a thing of the past or a goal in life, none of us possess it. All of us want it though, and we seek it in the wrong places.

Guess Addie was right about one thing: Kelsie’s not like the rest of us. She identifies with us because we sport the same colors on our skin—black and blue, with splashes of red—but for us, those bruises aren’t skin-deep. They seep through our muscles and heal from the outside in, like a stitched-up wound. Compared to many of the women here, Kelsie’s wounds were superficial, she admitted that herself. One part of her life is bad, and she’s trapped in a situation she doesn’t want to be in, but she has fight left, hope, and something to live for.

That’s more than most of us.

I came here empty. Long before meeting Breaker Beneventi, I had nothing, not even a true identity. He took all my nothings and hollowed me out. He scooped and discarded my insides, marked me with his kindness, and carved his name onto my skin, then lit me up inside, like a Halloween pumpkin—glowing in the darkness, but a carcass nonetheless. Eventually it rots or dries out.

I was nothing more than a prop, a pastime to bypass the mundane moments of his criminal life. Maybe I did romanticize my monster. Turned him into a tortured soul, rather than someone to run from. Not that I had the option of running, but even if I did, would I have taken it if it were

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