The night seems darker as we near the neighborhood, and I know why the taxi driver was warning me. I do know this neighborhood well.

“Here. Stop here.”

He stops down the street from the house. My eyes are locked on it. It’s dark, like no one is home. Like no one has been home for years. Is this where Alessandro was holed up?

I open the car door as soon as the taxi stops, and the cabbie catches my wrist. “Whoa, hold on there, lady.” He points to the fare machine.

“Shit. I forgot my wallet.”

He gives me an incredulous look. I have an idea. “Go back to the house where you picked me up. Keep the meter running. They’ll pay you. Ask for Giovanni. He’ll be looking for me. Give him this address.”

“Are you sending me on some wild-goose chase?”

“No, I swear. I have to go. Please, just do this. I promise you’ll be paid for all your trouble. Please.”

“What’s your name?”

“Emilia. Emilia Estrella.”

He studies me, narrows his eyes. “You sure you should be here?”

I nod. I have to be.

He releases me. “All right, Emilia. But if this Giovanni don’t pay up, I’m coming for you,” he says, any concern or kindness for me gone from his tone.

I step out into the night and close the door while he mutters something under his breath. I watch the taxi disappear down the road, and I’m truly alone. I make my way down the broken sidewalk to that broken house where four years ago, a broken girl emerged from a cracked basement window, her body and spirit as fractured as the sidewalk of this forgotten neighborhood.22EmiliaMy steps slow as I near the property. I don’t want to go inside. I don’t want to be here. But I have no choice. I wonder if the taxi driver will get word to Giovanni in time.

In time.

Before my brother finishes the job he started four years ago. Before he kills me.

I finally stand before the run-down house. I stop and stare at the front door, eye each of the dark windows. The lawn is overrun with weeds, and they’re creeping up through the cracks of the walkway too. I take the first step, then another. My heart is racing, and I realize I’m saying a prayer.

When I reach the door, I simply stand there and wait. He knows I’m here.

A moment later, the lock turns and the door opens. The remembered smell of the house overwhelms me. Makes me take a step back.

A calloused hand appears from the blackness inside and closes around my wrist. Alessandro steps into what dim light the streetlamp offers and, for the first time in four years, I see him. I see my twin brother. And I don’t recognize him.

He’s wearing a deep red T-shirt. The name of the band featured on it is so faded I can’t make it out. His hair is shaggy, and his beard is overgrown. I can see bits of food in it. He gives me a one-sided grin and cocks his head, making a point of looking me over from head to toe and back.

“Well, well, sister. Fucking the enemy seems to agree with you.”

With that, he tugs me inside. I let out a small scream as the door slams shut behind me. Despite the weight he’s lost, he’s still so strong. He always was.

“Where’s daddy?”

“Aww, how cute. You still call him daddy,” he mocks, not releasing me as he pulls me toward the door that leads downstairs. Down to that basement. He opens it.

I dig my heels in. I’m looking around, straining my ears to hear any sound, but there’s nothing.

“Where is he?” He’s not here. I don’t see his bed. I don’t hear machines.

And I realize something.

He isn’t here.

He was never here.

Alessandro watches me with a grin on his face as I put the pieces together and understand.

“If I tell you he’s downstairs, will you head down on your own? Cause that’s where you and me are going.”

“Get off me. Let me go!”

He chuckles and drags me forward. “Or I can just hurl you down if you want.”

I have no doubt he would.

He flips the switch, and the lights blink on downstairs. He pulls me onto the stairs, then turns to lock the door and pockets the key. He heads down with me in tow, and I remember the familiar creak of the step that’s third from the bottom. Remember how it used to wake me up. Alert me to their return. I slept easily then too. Seemed to constantly sleep.

Only once we’re down the stairs does he release me.

“You are so stupid, Sis. I mean, think.”

I back away, looking around, remembering everything. Everything exactly as it had been. They haven’t even cleaned the dried blood on the floor and the whip he used, it’s hanging on the wall as if ready and waiting to do its job again.


Tags: Natasha Knight Benedetti Brothers Erotic