CHAPTER 26
Rico
Aharrowing cry pierces through the night.
I immediately cover my ears. The sudden sound is like shards of glass being shoved down my ear canals. My pulse picks up at an alarming rate. I blow out a long breath and try to center myself. As my eyes adjust in the dark I keep with my breathing technique to help regulate myself.
When my heart rate returns to its restful stage I uncover my ears.
Beside me in bed Imogen lies trembling with her face etched in sorrow.
I’ve never been one who offers comfort. Quite frankly I’m not good at it. My words are often construed as hollow and harsh when it’s never what I intend. And inviting myself in one’s personal space with an embrace or a shoulder to lean on always feels wrong.
But when I hear her small whimper I know I must do something to comfort her.
Lying on my side I pull her into my frame. I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on top of her head. The way we fit perfectly screams at me.
She shifts. She presses herself further against me and I tighten my hold. It’s as if she’s trying to meld us together.
Her soft voice breaks. “I miss her.”
“Your mother?” I ask softly.
“Yes,” she sniffles. “I knew I would miss her. Even when I planned on my escape I knew I’d miss her but god,” she breathes painfully, “it hurts, Rico.”
This is the part where I always metaphorically fuck it up. The words never sound consoling. “Would it comfort you to know she’s more than likely missing you, too? Feeling the same pain as you are?”
“No,” she croaks. “It only makes it worse.”
My brows knot together. “Why?”
“Because I caused it. If I hadn’t been selfish I would have never dreamt of escaping that farce of a marriage. I would have sucked up my pride and done my duty for the family.”
She lays the blame so heavily upon herself when there is no reason to carry such a weight. “Even if you hadn’t decided to escape yourself, Imogen, we were there that night to capture you. It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“But it does,” she disagrees harshly. “You don’t understand.”
My thumb brushes along her hand. “Then explain it to me.”
“You saw how my ma cried. The utter devastation upon her face. God, I see it every night. And I tell myself I’ll do anything to make her pain disappear. I tell myself I’ll return home to her. That she needs to worry no longer. That I’ll escape this prison myself, like you said. I tell her I’ll make things right. I’ll avenge the man who killed her son.” She twists in my arms then. I loosen my hold to allow her to. Even in the dark I can feel her eyes penetrating past mine. Trying to dig into the soul I don’t believe I have.
Her hands come to encase my throat. Fuck. It spikes my blood. I almost want her to apply more pressure. “And everynight I come into your room and tell myself that tonight’s the night. Tonight is the night I kill you and will be set free. But once the blade kisses your skin I can never follow through. Even with my ma’s cries haunting me. Even with my brother’s ghost following me. I just can’t seem to kill you.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know,” she breathes. “Maybe it’s madness. Maybe I’ve lost myself to the insanity of it all.”
She grants my wish and applies more pressure to my throat. All the blood within me runs south. If she was to brush her cunt against my cock I’d blow at the second.
The tears of frustration in her eyes make them shine like jewels. And I think I understand Constantine now. I think I may be able to grasp how one can become lost in someone else.
“Why can’t I kill you?”
My hands find purchase on her hips. It’s a mistake. An absolute terrible mistake that shouldn’t feel right but it does. And I don’t know what to do with that information. I’m at a complete loss. For the first time I actually act without questioning myself.
I lower her over my groin. Between the thin fabric of our clothes and even thinner fabric of the sheet I feel her heat against me.
It’s the first time a woman has rubbed up against me.
