Fear The Reapers: A Dark Mafia Romance (Lovesick Villains Book 1)

Despite my attempts to get some rest, every time I closed my eyes, the nightmare would come. It was the same one that visited me nearly every night. Only this time, when I felt the jacket get thrown on my body, I’d look up and see Atlas looking at me with pity in his eyes.

I needed to clear my head and there was only one space in this house that had become my home away from home. Ezra’s room.

I slipped out of my room and into Ezra’s on silent feet. He and Tristan were gone for the night, but Ezra had told me to come to his room whenever I didn’t feel like facing my demons and tonight, had definitely become one of those nights.

Ezra’s room was the complete antithesis of where you’d expect a man like him to live. Unlike the unhinged and unpredictable man, his room was the picture of calm and serenity. Ice blue walls, lavender diffusers and soft, luxurious throws and linens accented the space. Taking a deep breath in, I soaked up his comforting scent of lavender tinged smoke and felt the pressure in my chest ease a fraction. His scent worked like magic for my anxiety.

Ezra set the far corner of his room up as a makeshift art studio. Large canvases laid scattered across his tarp-covered floor. Some blank, some partially finished, and some nearly completed. I knew some of them had blood on them, but I tried my best not to think about that.

As I snaked through the canvases, checking out his work, I paused, spotting a blank canvas with a full acrylic paint setup already laid out next to it. I wasn’t tired and Ezra had told me that painting was cathartic for him. Maybe getting some of my frustration out on canvas wasn’t such a bad idea.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours as I poured my heart out onto the canvas. I didn’t have a clear picture in my mind, only that I needed to get whatever was in my chest, out.

It wasn’t until the sun’s first rays of light rose in the sky that I realized how long I’d been working on the canvas. Up close, the canvas looked like a chaotic symphony of colors that had no real purpose or design. But when I pulled back to look at the full 3’ x 3’ canvas, I could see exactly what it was supposed to be as clear as day. Four figures held one smaller one. A woman. At first I thought they were restraining her, but if you look at her feet, you can see that they weren’t touching the ground. They’re holding her up.

“It’s beautiful, Angel.” Ezra murmured, moving to stand beside me.

I didn’t hear him come home and yet somehow; his appearance didn’t surprise me. Ezra had a knack for showing up precisely when I needed him to.

“I know which is which.” He murmured, pulling me in to press a kiss to my neck.

“How can you tell?” I asked, melting into his powerful hold. “I can’t even tell what I created.”

“Sure you can, it’s an interpretation of the way you see each of us.”

“That one.” He said, pointing to the one whispering into the smaller one’s ear, “is me. I’m the devil on your shoulder, baby.”

“That one.” He said, pointing to the brighter one laughing, with his hand running through his hair. “Is Cyrus. You see him as your light, the one that brings you joy.”

“That one.” He said, pointing to the blurry darker one with his hands around the small one’s waist. “Is Tristan. You see him as your stability, but there’s also some mystery around him.”

“And what about that one?” I asked about the last one, that seemed a step back behind the rest.

“That one may be the most interesting of all.” He said with a cocked brow.

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re holding hands, but it’s out of the view of the rest of us. Almost like the connection is a secret.” He mused, giving me a pointed look. “Anything you want to share?”

“Yes. No.” I said with a grimace as I shook my head. “When did everything get so fucked?”

“Long before you ever came into our lives.” He mused, taking a seat on his ice blue couch. “Sit with me, Angel. I think it’s time you learned about who my brothers and I were before we became The Reapers. ”

I trekked towards the couch and sat next to him, eager to learn more about the men of this house.

“One thing you should know,” he said, shifting his body towards me, “is that Atlas lives up to his namesake. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and does what he can to protect us. But when he feels like he’s failed, he refuses to forgive himself.”

I gave him a small nod. It was always clear to me that Atlas was their leader, but I had this idea in my head that he was making decisions and bossing everyone around simply to coax his own ego. I missed the glaringly obvious truth behind his actions. Trying to control everything was his way of protecting them. And me.

“He’s not a bad guy. He just does whatever it takes to-”

“Keep you guys alive?” I interjected, nodding to myself.

“Something like that.” Ezra replied as a soft smile formed on his lips.

“That seems to be a running theme these days.” I mumbled, leaning on his shoulder.

“Hmm?” He asked, pressing his lips against my forehead.

The familiarity and intimacy between us should have been scary. It had become almost second nature for me to crawl into Ezra’s arms and be soothed by his presence. It was to the point where sometimes I didn’t even realize my body was moving towards him until my skin pressed against his.

It was the same for Ezra, too. Sometimes, when we were just sitting on the couch, his hand would mindlessly reach out and start twirling my hair. The connection between us was more than just friendship and more than just sex. It was a deeper, soul connection. Almost as if our bodies had practiced this dance their entire lives, and they knew each other’s movements by heart.

“It’s nothing.” I said, shaking my head and looking up at him. “You were about to tell me about your guys’ past.”

“Right.” He said with a firm nod as he shifted in his seat and faced straight ahead.

His tattooed fingers tapped on his knees as he searched for his next words. I reached for his left hand and laced my fingers between his. Whatever he was preparing to share seemed big, and he needed to know that I was right there with him.

“My brothers and I were all born in Caspian Valley, and for the first few years of our life, we had a decent upbringing. We weren’t the richest family by any means, but our parents did what they needed to get by and for a while our lives were good.”

I scooted my body closer to his, sensing he needed the comfort.

“When I was seven, The Diaz Cartel killed our parents right in front of us. They weren’t the target. Just innocent bystanders in a drive-by shooting that got out of hand.” He grimaced as he nervously rubbed his fingertips against my knuckles and searched for my eyes. “Kind of comes with the territory when you live in a shit neighborhood.”

I squeezed his hand, silently urging him to continue.

“After they died, we had no family to turn to. Our parents had no siblings, and their parents had died long before any of us were born. With nowhere to go, our only option was the system.”

My heart broke for all of them. I knew what it was like to lose a parent at a young age, and I couldn’t imagine losing two loving parents so young. It must have been terrifying.

“Tris and Cy were fostered almost immediately. They were only five at the time and still had that cute innocent thing going on, so it made sense.” He chuckled and I smiled, picturing the two of them as broody little kids.

Tristan told me about his foster father and the abuse he had to endure as a kid. If Tristan and Cyrus didn’t kill the bastard, I would’ve killed him myself.

“Atlas and I weren’t so lucky. Years ticked by while we lived in the group home, waiting for someone to give a fuck about the damaged kids the world forgot.”

He winced as he said the words and I immediately shifted closer, resting my head against his neck. It was difficult for him to share this story, but I was grateful that he was sharing it with me.

“When we got word of a woman wanting an older kid, Atlas and I didn’t know how to feel. We wanted to be excited, but we’d seen too many couples blatantly ignore us once they learned what we’d witnessed. They worried our parent’s brutal murder made us predisposed to violence. Go figure.”

“Then it happened.” He said, with a bitter smile on his lips. “She selected me. I was the fucking chosen one. Laura seemed nice enough, but even back then, I wasn’t one to trust right away. I needed my brother, but she insisted on only having room for one of us.”

“Atlas saw my hesitation, and he pulled me aside, insisting that it was a golden opportunity I shouldn’t pass up for him. And deep down, I wanted it. I just needed to know At would be okay without me.”

“So I agreed to go. And it’s a choice that’s haunted both Atlas and I ever since.”

I released his hand and wrapped my arms around his waist, bracing for the impact of what was going to happen next.

“Laura wasn’t what she seemed, and I found that out almost immediately after my arrival.”

I bit into my lip and hung on every word as he continued.

“Laura liked pain, both eliciting it and feeling it. When she selected me, it had nothing to do with her wanting to be a mother figure and everything to do with me being strong enough to both handle the pain she wanted to give and being able to give it back to her just as hard. She just wanted someone naïve and helpless to force into her sick sexual game.” He paused as his jaw clenched.

I’d never met this woman, but I hated her more than I had ever hated anyone in my life. I couldn’t stop picturing Ezra as a child, so excited for this new mother to replace the one he lost far too soon. How innocent, kind, and good he was before she marred his soul with her twisted desires that a child should’ve never been a part of. I mourned the innocence he lost at the hands of someone who was supposed to take care of him. Supposed to love him.

“The scars she left, both physically and mentally, have fucked me. I know I’m not normal. I know I should feel remorse for the misdeeds I’ve done, but I don’t. And I don’t think I ever will.” He confessed, giving me a pained expression.

I was at a loss for words. I could see now that Ezra wasn’t crazy, he was just a man who found a way to survive in a fucked up world. He was right. He would never be “normal”; but who the fuck wanted normal, anyway? I know I didn’t. I tried the normal, safe route, and I still got burned.

“That’s okay.”

“You don’t get it,” He cut me off, flashing me a bitter smile. “I’m addicted to you and I don’t have a conscience that warns me to stay away. Every single part of me wants to devour you. To take everything you have to give and maybe more than you’re willing to spare. If you let me, I’ll rip off your wings and pull you straight into hell, Angel.”

I swallowed, contemplating my next words. Ezra needed to know that I wanted everything he had to give. Every single fucking thing. He wasn’t a part of some bad girl streak or a fun lay that I’d regret in the morning. He was Ezra. The man that still terrified me even while he soothed me. The man that held me like I was precious to him yet would just as easily snap my neck if I ever betrayed him. Nothing was normal about any of us anyway, and I was in far too deep to care. He and his brothers were already all over my skin, like a pungent perfume I couldn’t wash off.

I placed my palms on the edges of his sharp jaw and gently turned his head to face me.

“I’m already ruined.” I said, flashing him a sinister grin. “You just have to decide if you want to join in on the debauchery.”

Ezra lunged for me. His lips crashed into mine in a punishing kiss and as the weight of his body crushed against me, we fell flat on the couch in a mess of tangled limbs. All at once Ezra was everywhere. Consuming me. Stealing my breath and simultaneously bringing me back to life.

As his tongue danced with mine, his nimble fingers slipped my under my silk nightgown and slid up and down my already slick folds. I groaned into his mouth, feeling his fingers flick against my sensitive clit. Liking my reaction, he did it again, and I bucked, the stimulation too overwhelming.

Ezra flashed me a wicked smile as he pulled his fingers away from my pussy and he stared at wet gleam coating his fingers. He slowly brought his fingers to my mouth and spread my slick across my lips before slipping his fingers deep into my mouth.

“How do you taste, Angel?” He mused with a grin as he watched me suck his fingers clean.

“Taste for yourself.” I purred, releasing his finger with a pop.

“I prefer it directly from the source.” He said, grabbing my knees and slamming them to my chest in one swift motion.

Wasting no time, Ezra dove in headfirst into my pussy and began lapping and flicking my sensitive little bud to the point of cruelty. Every time I’d inch closer to release, my body would tense up, and Ezra would stop what he was doing to pop back up and flash me a wicked smile before diving in again. It was the sweetest form of cruelty I’ve ever experienced.

The bastard knew what he was doing, and after the fifth round of his little game; I had reached the point of insanity. My nails dug into his hair as I pushed his mouth against clit fervently, but he easily overpowered me and popped back up again.

“Ready for my cock, Angel?” He asked, biting into his lower lip with a sexy smirk.

“Yes, yes. Fuck yes!” I stammered as his filthy words fractured the little composure I had left.

He chuckled as he flipped my body over on all fours, and I arched my back instinctively, preparing for him. Using his knee to spread my legs wider, Ezra slipped down his pants and pressed himself against me. He hissed when his cock touched the wetness seeping out from me and in the back of my mind I wanted to smile. It served him fucking right for being so cruel.

“Angel,” Ezra warned as he slipped his fingers inside of me, “you’re too tight, and I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to need you to take a deep breath for me.”

I did as I was told and he rewarded me with his thick, velvety shaft, stuffing me to the hilt. On shaky knees, I leaned into each deep thrust he gave, lavishing in the feel of his cock and the way his powerful legs slapped against my ass.

“Good girl.” Ezra groaned, squeezing my ass with his large palm. “Such a fucking good girl.”

Ezra’s hand reached around my body to find my clit with expert precision. He used just the right amount of pressure to rub it in rhythm with his powerful thrusts. I leaned into each thrust until his tantalizing rubs were too much for my sensitive bud to handle and an intense orgasm ricocheted through my body and splintered me completely.

I wanted to implode from the sheer bliss, but Ezra kept me tethered, holding my body up as he continued his delicious assault. My pussy squeezed his cock until his own orgasm rocked through him and our bodies crumpled into a sweaty, lust-soaked pile of limbs.

As we laid there spent, with our bodies tangled together, I knew that there was no point in fighting the pull I had towards Ezra. We were co-dependent, toxic, and crazy as hell, but the connection we had was visceral and no amount of denial was going to change that.

He had shared a sliver of his past with me and after all the nightmares he helped me through, the least I could do was share some of mine. As our fingers interlocked and we nestled into the couch, I was ready to bare my soul to Ezra.

“Can I tell you how my nightmares started?”