A childlike sob broke from my lips, and my eyes immediately searched for the face I always knew, the one I was desperate for. With her head pulled to the side, her face had this pale, blueish tint instead of the flesh-pink vibrance I was used to.
With her eyes still open, they held a lifeless stillness that made me more fearful than anything else. Taking a step towards her body, I asked her to look at me with that familiar hate, with her anger. That I deserved it. I craved that mean look on her face that she had always given me; if that meant she was alive, then she could give it to me for the rest of her life.
I went to touch her feet when her raspy, cruel voice spoke from above. Her blue-tinted face snarled at me with those lifeless eyes. “Don't touch me, you vile thing!”
Shrieking back, I slammed onto the ground, clawing to get away when I felt the carpet underneath my fingers. Frantic, I jumped up, turning around the room like a madman as I saw I was in a house in America.
Looking down at my hands, they were back into my normal twenty-five-year-old hands. I almost let out a sigh of relief when that familiar creaking sound came from behind me, and I ran out of my room.
No. I don't want to think about that. I can't think about that. Water blurred my vision, and the only thing I could think of to drown out the sound, to drown out the pain, was drugs. This was Nicu’s old house when he attended college here in America. I’m sure he had some idiot friends come over with something.
Going into a wild frenzy, I went into every room and searched every nook and cranny, trying to find something I could consume, something I could drown myself in to forget it all.
With each empty room, desperation clawed at my throat, the voice from the past getting louder and louder. The last room was the pool table room, one I almost skipped when I noticed a long credenza against the back wall.
Opening all of the drawers, there was nothing, not even a crumb of anything. I was beginning to think my brother was too much of a saint in his college days when I shoved my hand deep inside the lower left cabinet, and my fingers touched the neck of a bottle.
Tugging it out, I saw it was a bottle of Spirytus vodka. Looking at the label, I could not read Polish, but I could still make out ninety-six percent, and I knew I hit the jackpot.
Unscrewing the top quickly, I gulped down that sharp, liquid fire. With the cold terror of my past slowly melting away, I staggered my way back to my room.
15
KAZIA
Sitting on the bed, eating a perfectly crafted sandwich, I couldn't shake the memory of Ion’s heated expression before he turned and left the room.
“Is it good? Do you need anything else?”
Cezar has been like this ever since we finished our little tryst. His wide puppy dog eyes begged him to do more and be more for me. I knew the answer before I asked, but I had to ask anyway: “Can you let me go?”
His hand trailed down my face, his smile so wide you would think it hurt. “Never. I will never be letting you go.” I nodded and took another bite, figuring that was what he would say, but then his crazy ass continued. “Even if you somehow escaped and were able to hide from us, I would hunt you down until my last day on this earth.” He scooted closer, whispering to me like it was a secret, “I would find you, watch over you, make sure you had everything you needed…” he tilted his head, his brows furrowed, and his eyes darkened. “And if you tried to build a life without me, I would erase all traces of it.” His eyes swirled with insanity, “A husband is no problem to get out of the way, but don’t worry, if you have kids, I can just adopt them and be their new daddy because they have you inside of them, and that’s all that matters. Everything that is yours is mine.”
His usual crazed expression hardened into something steady and resolute, every word dripping with conviction. I put the sandwich down, this time not just brushing it off as the psycho who says nonsense, but taking it at face value, and I realized I just fucked up. I just had mind-blowing sex with a psychopath, and no matter how this ended, he wasn’t letting go unless one of us was dead.
The psychology major in me was shaking her head, knowing that this kind of attachment wasn't healthy wasn't right. This would be toxic even if we worked on it constantly. Obsession and great sex weren’t love. But what the fuck was love, anyway?
He had stayed by my side, stabbed his brother for me, and comforted me when I was a mess, dealing with the aftershocks of traumatic memories. He wanted to raise Mike from the dead just to torture him. All of this was extreme and not how normal people think it wasn't healthy…but why did I not want to push him away? Why did I want to pull him in closer?
That white dove in my dream flashed in my mind, remembering the golden thread that connected us, made us whole, and shone brightly. A single word threaded through my mind, whispering the answer:soulmate.
His hand slowly slid into mine, reminding me that he was here. “Don’t worry about my brothers; they are coming around. I can feel it.” He pointed to his chest, and my brows furrowed, trying to understand what that meant, but before I could ask, he added in a giddy tone, “You saw Ion, right?! He’s already more than halfway there, and Nicu…he’ll come around. If they get all that killing-you funny business out of their heads, everything will be fine, and we can be a happy family. Nan said that happy families are the best for children.”
Whoa, whoa—pump the brakes. Children? When the fuck… what the fuck? Gulping down air as fast as I could, I squeezed his hand, giving him a small smile even though my insides turned inside out. “Let's just take it one step at a time. Also, what do you mean Ion is halfway there?”
He cackled up to the ceiling, “Oh Roma, so smart and yet…” He trailed off, and I opened my mouth to argue that I was talking to someone who had voices in his head and was trying to make some sense out of his words when he booped my nose. “You are the most adorable being on this planet, and since I found you first, I think I should get first-husband rights. Whether it's Nicu or Ion who is the second husband doesn't matter to me, but I was the one who was on your side from the beginning. I should be the one that reaps the benefits later, right?” What the fuck did this crazy man say? First husband rights? Is there more than one husband for a woman where he lives? My mind kept racing as I worked hard not to let my terror take over.
He let go of my hand and cocked his head to the side, which I was learning was the sign he was talking to the voices in his head. “Mmm, yes, Cal agreed. He says my brothers shouldn’t be spoiled when they lack courage. I say first cum, first husband, right?” My mind was spinning right now, and I just needed to breathe. This was the first time I had been in a situation where the man I just fucked wanted to marry me and share me with his brothers.
“Alright, alright!” He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, “Nan says I’m overwhelming you and I need to give you some breathing room.” He throws his hand out at me, turning his head to the side, “See, she can breathe, gosh Nan, it’s like your eyesight is going.”
I don't know how he got it in his brain that we could all be one happy quadruple family. Ion might want to fuck me, but there was no way he wanted me as his wife, and Nicu… I'm just trying to make sure that man doesn't slit my throat at the end of the day.Wife of all three?I snorted. There was no way.
Shaking my head, I knew it was a losing battle with him and changed the subject. “Do you know what I want?”
He turned to face me. “Shhhh! Quit it! My Roma is talking,” giving me his full attention.
“I-”
