Bones (Bonetti Brothers #1)

CHAPTER TWO

ATHENA

I look around the motel room, hating my surroundings and hating myself even more, because it’s far better than my previous home. It’s a small room with a queen sized bed, a tiny end table with a bible on top, and a television that has seen better days. Sometimes it works, but most times it doesn’t. My favorite part of the entire room is the window because, while I’m not allowed to go outside unless I’m told to, I can watch the families enjoying life in a way I’ve never known. Manny opens the door, looking as pissed off as he usually does. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself for what’s sure to come. I don’t have a clue why he always looks ready to fight, but he does.

“Here’s the address of your next job.”

I glance at the piece of paper he hands me, and the location means nothing to me. I don’t know where I’m going.

Narrowing his gaze at me, he says, “I want the red Lambo.”

Has he lost his mind? I’ve stolen many things for him over the last year: money, jewelry, drugs, but not a car.

I shake my head, knowing I’ll anger him. “I can’t. Honestly, Manny, I don’t even know how.”

It’s the truth. This is not an item I can simply stuff in a bag and make my exit casually. I’ve seen people in movies hot-wiring cars, but I don’t know how.

With a fierce glare, he walks over to me where I sit on the bed; the fury radiates from his body as he climbs over me and grabs my throat, squeezing so hard I can’t breathe.

“You will, Princess, unless you prefer to go back to daddy.”

He has my number and we both know it. I will do anything to not go back there. Of course, Manny doesn’t stop there, he never does. Everybody in my life gets off on causing me pain .

“Do you miss being daddy’s little girl?”

Releasing my throat, he laughs loudly and says, “Is that it, Princess? You miss daddy’s dick in your mouth?”

“I’ll do it, alright. Now stop. Stop saying that shit and stop calling me that.”

My sometimes boyfriend laughs even louder and I officially hate him. I didn’t end up with him because of an attraction. He isn’t bad looking, I suppose, but that’s not what drew me to him. His hair and eyes are both dark, he has a square jaw, and skin that appears permanently tanned. I’m sure women find him attractive, but that wasn’t what did it for me. Manny offered me a way out of the never ending abuse. And some days I wonder who’s worse. Him or my father. Like all abusive men, Manny started out sweet, promising me the world. He’d get me away from my dad and keep me safe. It didn’t last long. First, he requested my help with stealing some jewelry, and before I knew it; it was no longer a request. If I don’t want to go back to my father’s house, I have no choice.

Manny Ortega is an opportunist. He’ll take advantage of anything and anyone if it makes him money. He claims to love me, but it’s all a lie. I’m nothing more than his cash cow. I steal things for him; he sells them and profits in a big way, sometimes hundreds and oftentimes by the thousands. In return, he rents this cheap motel room for me to stay in and supplies me with food. Kind of. The occasional ramen or loaf of bread with bologna isn’t my dream culinary option. He knows, as well as I do, that I’d rather starve to death than to go back to my father. This is why I do everything he tells me to. It’s why I’ll attempt to steal this Lamborghini . Most people would be afraid of getting caught and going to prison.

I’m not.

In fact, I’m hoping for it. A life behind bars would be better than this.

When I get to the house that has this Lambo that Manny wants so badly, I can’t believe my eyes. It’s dark so I can’t see well, but I note how massive this property is. The main house itself appears to be made of white stone. It’s gated, and on the front of the black gate is a design of three skulls with wings. And in a circle it has a word I can’t read. Other than the metal gate, a tall cement wall surrounds the rest of the house, and it appears the goal is to keep people out. People like me.

This house is isolated, really fucking isolated, and it makes all the hairs stand on the back of my neck. In my experience, people this far out with no one around normally have shit to hide. Like my father. The bile rises in my throat at the not so distant memory of him.

Manny had me dropped off three miles from here, and even that far away, there was no civilization. Which of course means if I’m stealing a car from a serial killer, and get caught, they’ll likely never find my body. I snort at myself from my spot in the trees. That would be just my luck, to rob a killer. Would Dexter ask why I was stealing from him, and butcher every man in my life who has ever hurt me? Or would I find myself bound to his table?

I approach the large cement wall around the house. It’s got to be eight fucking feet tall. How am I supposed to climb that? The sky is black. The property is unnaturally dark. Almost as if I’m walking into a trap. Like someone wants me to think no one is here. Still, I have to get to the garage where I’m sure the precious half a million dollar car is stored.

Climbing up the wall, I immediately fall and know I have no choice but to try again. Chances are good that I won’t leave this house without broken bones.