I swallow. “You give me your word?”
The lips twist, but not in derision. “I give you my word,topolino. My word as a man of honor.” As I let out a long breath, he adds, “No one deserves to be locked up with my brother.”
I agree with him there. But speaking of Julian—”Do you have to keephimlocked up down there?”
I’ve gone too far. The black eyes flash fire.
“A mouse should not presume to squeak at a cat,” he tells me. “You may be a pretty little thing, but do not test my patience.”
CHAPTER13
SANDRO
I am becoming moreand more certain that this Teddy MacCallum is exactly who he says he is.
After my chat with PacSyn’s Chuckles Moran, during which he passed on his condolences for my father’s death then denied all knowledge of a plot against me, and I passed on my condolences for his dead men and assured him I had no idea who killed them, I went back to theCute Crimssite and read through Teddy’s DMs, his posts, his replies to others.
None of them suggested some criminal mastermind, not even a plant from law enforcement.
If anything, I felt a glow of flattery as I read some of his comments about me. He went further in some places, swapping twisted and dirty fantasies with some members of the forums. Some of the language and imagery raised evenmyeyebrows.
Though of course, I reminded myself, he did not know about my face when he’d written those fantasies. He would feel very differently now.
I smacked the laptop shut and checked the video feed to the cells again on my phone. It was just about the time that I had specified Julian was to be taken out for exercise. I’d refused to let the guards carry weapons when they handled him, since I assumed he’d only take them from them.
Much to my surprise, Julian did not even resist. He was as meek and obedient as I’ve ever seen him. But I know my brother. There’s always a method to his madness, and I do not trust him.
The guards coming and going woke Teddy, and I watched him closely after they left. I saw him bolt to the toilet, the wracking of his shoulders as he threw up, his collapse afterward.
I watched closely for a few seconds. It would not be unheard of for a plant to make themselves sick, to fake a panic attack, and Teddy already knew that I had visual and audio access to the cells.
But there was no way for him to know that I was watching right at that moment.
And there was something about the way he crawled across the concrete that made me think that—despite my better judgment—he wasn’t faking.
He really was in a state.
I waited another few seconds, my head warring with my heart.Too soft, Alessandro, my mother had always told me. Too forgiving. She taught me to nurse grudges, to mete out blood for blood, to enjoy the suffering of my enemies.
But Teddy was not my enemy. Of this, I was becoming more and more certain. He was exactly who and what he said he was: afanboy. A fanboy who had fantasies about me, of all people. A beautiful, fragile creature who had fantasies about me, whom I had locked up in a dungeon that stank of decay and despair alongside a psychopathic killer—
I sprang up and ran down to the cells, pulled him up into my arms. The way he clung to me, buried his face into my neck, it warmed my heart. No one turned to me like that anymore, not for protection, not these days.
People only ever turned away.
* * *
But whatever my foolish heart may have made me do today, I’m determined to let my head have the last word. As adorable and tempting as he looks there in my bed, I must remember that I am not who I was.
I am not the Alessandro Castellani who left a thousand broken hearts behind him in Italy, and broke a thousand more here in Los Angeles. A betrayal and a Bernardi blade have taken my face from me.
“Get dressed,” I tell Teddy, moving away toward the door. “I had some clothes brought in for you.” I nod at thechaise longue, where his new clothes, delivered not half an hour ago, have been stacked. “Choose what you like. Then meet me at the computer.”
His mouth falls open as he regards the clothes, but I withdraw before he can say anything. I’ve sent his own clothes down to be laundered, but I know from experience that it’s very difficult to get that particular stench out of fabric.
And some part of me can’t bear to smell it on Teddy. He’s such an innocent, despite those strange and twisted fantasies he wrote to his internet associates about, that it seems like it upsets the balance of the universe itself to have him so close to such filth.
My mother was right. I’m too soft-hearted when it comes to a sweet mouth and large blue eyes.
