“Whoa,” he says, taking it from me. “Don’t do that again.”
“Sorry, I can usually manage, but when something ishigh up, I have issues.” I demonstrate how far I can raise my left arm. “This shoulder doesn’t work well.”
“Why the fuck not?” he asks as he sets the mixer where I point on the counter.
“It’s been dislocated too many times.”
I turn to walk away, but then I’m spun back around, and Rome’s fierce eyes glare down at me.
“Say that the fuck again.”
I lick my lips. Jesus, I just sayeverythingaround this man. He’s like a truth serum. But who else have I ever been able to tell? No one on my father’s payroll would have given a shit. Irishatedhow I was treated, and sometimes she’d make sure to hold me when I couldn’t hold in my pain. But she also needed to keep her job, and the walls had ears, so she would never have been a true confidante.
I had no one, and I hadn’t realized how lonely my life was until I came to Rapture.
Is that why all of this is coming out of my mouth?Because I’ve never had a soul to tell?Because I could never divulge to anyone that I lived with a narcissistic monster who treated me so despicably?
“My left shoulder has been dislocated a lot, and I never had physical therapy for it. So I can’t reach up, and I can’t lift heavy things above my head. But I’ll just get a step stool?—”
“Fuck the stool. Who dislocated … let me guess, your piece-of-shit father?”
I lick my lips again and give him a jerky nod. “If Imade him mad, he grabbed my arm and pulled it behind my back. Hard.”
Rome paces away from me, then turns back my way. “What else?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I want to know every fucking thing he did to you. I saw the bruises. And now I know about the shoulder. What else, Eloise?”
“I have a scar”—he growls—“on my low back from a knife. Mostly, it was slaps, though. Once in a while, he’d punch me, and once I was on the ground, he’d kick my ribs. That’s what you saw. Those are fading nicely and don’t hurt anymore.”
“Anything else?”
I reach out and take his hand, giving it a squeeze before I resume my place at the island to make the pasta. “Mostly, it was psychological. I’ve seen men tortured, hacked up, bled out, all of the things.”
“When did he start doing that to you?” His voice is hard and low.
“I was young.” I blow a piece of hair out of my face, thinking it over. It was just before my mom died. “Probably eight or nine.”
“Christ,” he whispers.
“Yeah, some girls went to dance class, and I watched men lose their fingers. He never made me be the one to do it, but that’s because he loves it too much. He always said it was because my idiot of a mother never gave him a son, so he didn’t have a proper heir, and I’d be expected to be it instead.But let’s be real, I was never going to inherit anything. Women aren’t dons. Whoever he made me marry would have taken over the family. He just liked hurting me. Watching people die tore me up until I was in my early teens, when I learned how to turn my brain off and disassociate.”
I shake my head as I mix the eggs and flour by hand. This is my favorite part. Ilovegetting my hands dirty in the kitchen.
“Why did we start talking about this?” I ask with a frown.
“You prefer not to see it,” he says, reminding me.
“Ah, yes. You can tell me you’re a bad man, and when you’re not with me, you’re running drugs, or cleaning money, or whatever the hell it is that you do. And in the process, men die, because they’re stupid and disloyal and make poor choices. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just work my amazing bartending job, cook in this stellar kitchen, and be with you whenever I can have you. Justpleasebe careful.”
I get the idea that Rome would rather I be forthright about what I want here. This is so new, and maybe I’m a new shiny toy to someone like him and will be discarded despite his words of adoration. But the anger I saw tear through him at what my father has done? I can’t deny that was gratifying. I know Rome’s also a violent man, and I can hope he’s a man of his word, and truly someone I can trust.
I’ve never known a man I can trust.
This is his home, his world, and therefore his rules, but I hope he’ll respect mine while I’m here.
“I have two rules, Rome: don’t ever raise a hand to me and if you’re going to fuck other women, be discreet. Those are the deal breakers for me.”
