The words are disgusting, the nickname is wrong. Everything comes crashing down, everything we shared shredded like silk. My ribcage clenches painfully, trying to protect the organ inside, beating like it wants to cling to something he’s destroying with careless words. Fear sticks to Toma’s skin. I wish I could stay strong, but he’s succeeding in hurting me.
I can’t take it. I’ve had too much pain to bear to allow him to do it, too.
I slap him again, harder this time. I know he lets me. He’s a trained killer and could have avoided me.
“You want to throw away what we have? Fine,” I sneer. “I knew you were no good the moment you walked into my cousin’s house. Get the fuck out of Edinburgh before I put a contract on your head. Go back to him like the coward you are.”
He chuckles, nothing like the rich, low sound I love. “That’s rich coming from you. Hiding away behind your smiles when all you want is retribution. You and I both know you’re too soft for murder. You said it yourself, you want out of this life, right? You don’t have what it takes to kill me.”
“Don’t fucking tempt me. I love to prove men wrong.”
I gather the keys he left for me on the table and my jacket and open the door.
“Take the mutt.” He stoops low and takes Biscuit in his arm before pushing her into mine. Then he disappears into the bedroom, slamming the door of the bathroom behind him, like he didn’t just shatter my heart and destroy what we had with a few well-placed insults.
TWENTY-FOUR
TOMA
The door slams shut behind Lucie. It’s the sound of my heart leaving my chest to follow her. I’ll never get it back.
As I close my eyes, wetness descends on my cheeks. I touch it with the tips of my fingers, shocked that it’s my own tears. I haven’t cried for so long.
But what I did tonight. What I said to her…
I won’t ever be able to erase the look of hurt on her beautiful face. How shock morphed into disdain, then disgust and anger. Like a maestro, I played all the insecurities she shared with me in confidence while she opened herself and let me see all of her. I hated myself more with every word spoken between us. I promised I’d keep her safe. I also promised her secrets were going to be buried with me. I couldn’t do both.
I had to choose.
I had to.
The only way to protect her was always to stay as far away as I could. And for that, I had to break her heart. I know she’d involve her family to protect me and I can’t be responsible for the death of anyone she loves.
My brother has not only found me, but he’s found her. He knows she’s my weakness. I led him to her. I endangered herlife and she could have died. If he ever finds out who Diane is, Lucie’s godmother will die and it will be my fault.
I should have told Dante. I should have left.
The weight of the mistakes I made is heavy on my chest, suffocating me. The very air I breathe thins as I take big gulps. I can’t panic now. I close my eyes again and step into the shower, setting it to ice cold. It’s another trick I took from her, and it makes me want to hurl myself off the fucking balcony.
But I have to make sure Petar doesn’t come after her.
Somehow, I will have to convince him I’m coming back to Split because he commanded it. That I left everything behind because, like him, I have no soul, and don’t care about anyone.
I don’t deserve the warmth of her love anyway. This is my punishment. How fitting that a monster like me is meant to crave what he never deserved in the first place.
I step out of the shower, put on clean clothes, and gather my jacket, helmet and keys, striding out and to my motorcycle without another look. I abandon everything in my flat. I won’t need it where I’m going. All I need are the memories of everything I shared with Lucie.
I drive all night and all day, heartbroken and soul-shattered. Tears sprang in my eyes every time I stop along the way. It’ll take me a few more days to reach Split but I refuse to fly, to make anything easy for myself.
The whole journey, I’m haunted by images of Lucie. Her warm smile, her giggles when she watches Biscuit do a trick, her golden hair spread on our pillow, her hooded eyes as she guides me inside her. Everywhere I look, I see her. In the disgusting coffee I drink at road stops—she’d drink it, too, just to fuel her study sessions. In the pink motorcycle racing me when I cross through Germany. In the breathtaking colours of the Croatian forests welcoming me back home.
She owns me. She could have convinced me that she and I could vanquish anyone. But we can’t. The only way to get my brother off her back is if I come running to him, Lucie hurt and yelling in my wake, vowing to kill me.
****
It’s late evening when I reach Split after two days of travel.
I don’t expect my brother to trust me after my six months hiatus, but convincing him that I needed everyone to believe I betrayed him if I were to gather important information from the Venturas will take effort. And that I hurt Lucie Ventura with perverted pleasure will be even harder. I’ve never been a very good liar but her life depends on my performance.
