Affliction by S. W. Frank Read Free Book Online Page A

change. When she tried to wiggle free, slapped at his face, and stood, his head dropped limply to his chest. He could not make her love him, she remained adamant about going away. He hiccupped the hurt and belched out misery, another death, like Kefilwe.
    Then womanly hands were on his cheeks. The eyes he saw were of love, his Shanda. “Geo…oh…I hate to see you like this,” she said.
    “Then love me as I love you, give our children a loving and peaceful home bella.”
    “Geo…por favore….we cannot…this is wrong…I…”
    The words trailed to nothingness. Giuseppe’s mouth had silenced her voice. Such strength even when alcohol is consumed is what Don Giuseppe had. His hands rubbed and caressed the curves bestowed upon women. He had sampled plenty, yet his heart had only found one which pulsed in unison. He licked her like food as he maneuvered his dream to the mattress. With clumsy hands he found the zippers and latches concealing her glorious figure. He did not bother with her shoes; in fact he cared only about pleasuring his donna. Make her remember their love is strong, an inebriated man decided. Their bond was formed through an act that birthed a son and another seed flourished in her belly.
    Sliding along his arms were soft hands. Moans so sweet combined with salty tears formed as he caressed his love in return. When the obstruction of clothes was removed, he touched her face and a bass carried to the silent room. Even Gee lay quiet when he said, “Te amo…I will always love you, damn me for having my brother’s curse!”
    The woman beneath him held tightly to his bulging biceps as he slipped within her and the passion of a man in mourning filled her completely. Fire ignited during a broken heart’s hallucination and molten liquid scorched a woman to cinder.
    The shimmer around her neck, a sparkly crucifix told him he’d found heaven.
    For one glorious evening he had his love requited. In the darkened room she brought him alive, turning the tables to ride him hungrily. She cooed and smiled while suctioning his fluids into her micio until she overflowed.
    What a wonderful dream.
    But then morning came. Heavy eyelids lifted. Blue eyes scanned the walls and furnishings before he turned on his side and found emptiness’ greeting. Shanda was gone. He had to accept the reality.
    He grumbled and then kicked the covers away.
    Sobriety begins today, he pledged as he stepped to the floor and a foot contacted with a lace panty. Onward he walked, unobservant and oblivious, however determined to proceed with his life.
    Death is a wedding ring worn by the living.
     
    ***
     
     
     
     
     
    The heat was unbearable. The figure hanging like a rack of meat wiggled to get free but his effort was futile. The man holding the blow torch knew this as well. Sweat poured from the human meat’s forehead, perspiration saturated the white shirt worn beneath the fashionable jacket. His trousers were by his excrement and liquid ran down a leg. Yes, he actually shit the pants his mistress bought during a visit to Milan.
    He thought the gesture was sweet and didn’t complain about the amount of money she spent because she had thought of him.
    The man with the torch adjusted the setting. The blue-red color leaped higher and the hard blow sound of oxygenated pressure caused him to swallow in fear. “Nico, por favore…por favore!”
    Nico stared at the man, unmoved and blasé. His steps were casual, similar to a stroll through a park without a care in the world is the casualness in which the enforcer approached. Nico was real close, even if he weren’t he’d still smell the stench of fear. And man did it stink.
    Nico spoke, not to the frightened victim but to the figure watching. “No mercy. No conscience. No unnecessary talk. Leave th e embellishment to actors in a movie, what we do isn’t make-believe.”
    Tony did not look away. The action of the Sicilian was as ruthless as his reputation. To the heart is where he aimed