Twisted Cravings (The Camorra Chronicles, #6)(70)

Dinara tilted her head. “You are not like him.”

“But I’m a monster. If I were you, I’d want to get as far from me as possible.”

Maybe I finally needed to come to terms that I couldn’t be better, that my nature would never allow me to achieve the level of goodness I’d wished for when I was younger.

She shook her head, as her expression filled with gratefulness. “No. You do this for me. That’s something I won’t ever forget. And I sure as hell won’t go anywhere, Adamo.”

“I do this for you, yes, but a small part also does it for me, because I want it.”

“That’s okay.”

I laughed hoarsely. “Okay?”

“Yes, because even if you enjoy it ultimately, you do it for me. If that isn’t proof for…” She trailed off, looking almost embarrassed.

“It is proof,” I agreed. Proving to Dinara how much she meant to me was why I was here. It was why I started, but it wasn’t why I kept going once I lay my hands on my victim. Once I’d begun my dark task, I was lost, lost to a deep yearning and dark hunger. I staggered to my feet. My legs felt unsteady as if I’d ridden a rollercoaster too often. This after torture sensation came closer to a drug rush than anything ever had, and anything ever could.

Dinara grabbed a towel from my bag and handed it to me. I took it. My hands were coated in blood and my clothes were soaked. They were ruined.

I remembered when Remo and Nino had returned home like this and I’d feigned disgust when I’d really felt fascination.

Dinara watched me calmly, and I wondered what she saw. I remembered the sick fascination I’d felt when I’d first seen Remo and Nino in action. Even back then part of me had wondered how it would feel to lose myself in something as depraved but I’d fought it, had resisted for as long as I could.

Dinara scanned the remains of number two. If the sight unsettled her, she hid it. Once my hands were clean, I touched her arm, drawing her attention back to me.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly. “I’m glad you did what you did. He deserved it, but it’s not something I can do. I realized that now.”

“You don’t have to. I can if you want me to.” I wanted to feel this high again. Dinara could probably see it in my face.

“I don’t want to be the reason why you lose control,” she said.

A dark laugh burst out of me. I touched her cheek. “You really think it’s your fault I’m like this. That’s the Falcone gene and my bloody upbringing, not you.”

Dinara pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want to give him another second of my life. He got what he deserved. He’s the past now.”

After calling the clean-up crew, Dinara and I headed back to our motel.

It was better than the dump in Reno, but definitely not a place that invited you to stay longer.

Dinara sat cross-legged on the bed when I emerged from the bathroom after a long shower. She was staring down at the list with her abusers. She had already crossed off number two. I sank down beside her. “I wonder how I’ll feel once we can cross off the last name.”

That was her mother’s name. We hadn’t discussed her end yet. Dinara avoided the topic. No matter how much she hated her mother, killing her would be different to every other kill. “You’ll feel freed,” I said. It was the outcome I hoped for.

“How do you feel?” Dinara asked, changing the topic as usually when we discussed the end of our vendetta.

I scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as I considered my feelings. I didn’t feel guilty, not even slightly. He’d deserved everything I’d done. “Good. Back to normal.”

Dinara raised her eyebrows. “Normal isn’t a word I’d use to describe you.”

“Ditto,” I said with a grin, but I became serious when I saw the honest concern in Dinara’s eyes. “This is about you, not me. We’re doing this so you can bury your past and find peace. What I’m feeling isn’t important, but I’m not lying. I feel fine. The better question is how you feel?”

Dinara frowned as if she was listening into herself. “It’s surreal, all of this. For so long, these people haunted my nightmares, and I could do nothing, but now I’m no longer the victim, and it feels good. I want to keep going.”

“We will keep going, but I think it’s good for us to have a break for a few days before we move on to Vegas.”

When Dinara and I first had made the list and discussed our revenge plan, we’d agreed to return to camp after the first two kills to drive two races before we’d head to Vegas where the rest of the abusers lived. It would give us time to cool off, and would keep the speculations in camp to a minimum.

“I know,” Dinara said. “But now that we’ve begun I hate to stop.” “You don’t want time to doubt our actions?” I guessed.

Dinara shrugged. “Maybe. I can’t imagine my conscience becoming a problem, not with the way I’m feeling now, but I…” She sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t want to risk it. I want all of them to get what they deserve.”

“They will, because my conscience sure as hell won’t become a problem.”

Dinara smiled strangely and kissed me. “To think that I’d ever fall for an Italian mobster—” She snapped her lips shut, eyes going wide.