“Come on, princess,” he says as he climbs out of the truck. He walks around the front and takes my hand again. “Let’s go inside.”
“Okay,” I say nodding my head and feeling so unsure, and let him lead me through the large front door.
I take a good look around as I enter. I vaguely remember the modern furniture and clean sleek lines as my uncle took me away a few days ago. Gio takes me into the kitchen and sits me down at the granite island on a bar stool. It feels strange to be in his house but not in my room. To be free for the first time. Even at my father’s house, someone was always watching. I look up at Gio and wonder if that will be him from now on.
Something inside of me settles, knowing the answer already. Gio’s different. I know he is.
It also feels normal to be sitting there with him. He goes into the refrigerator and offers me wine. He pulls a bottle out, dark purple, almost black. I can’t read the label, but it doesn’t matter.
“No thanks,” I say in a soft voice, although I could use something for my nerves. I’m too shaken, and I feel on edge. But I need my wits. He nods and makes himself a drink. Whisky with ice. He sits down across from me, ice clinking in his glass.
We’re quiet for a moment as I take in the place.
“Come here,” he says, holding an arm out.
I stand quickly, needing his touch. I need his comfort; I need his reassurance. He reaches out and grabs my hips, pulling me toward him and into his lap. I bury my head into his chest, loving his warmth as he holds me there. I curl up against him and for the second time, I let myself go.
I sob into his chest. Everything seems to be too much for me to handle anymore.
He holds me, softly stroking my hair. “It’s okay,” he says softly.
But it’s not okay. I killed my father. I murdered him with a knife in the most brutal way imaginable. There was so much blood, so much more than I could have imagined. I still can hardly believe that I did it.
I’m a sobbing, shaking mess, my body trembling and my breath coming in ragged, but Gio holds me tight and whispers gently into my ear. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I have you. I’ll never let you go, princess.”
That’s what I need to hear. Never let me go. I can’t live without him.
After a good hard sob, I’m an exhausted wreck. He releases me as I finally calm down. He wipes my tears and kisses my cheeks.
“You’re safe now, princess,” he says.
I shake my head, not feeling safe or secure at all. I wrap my arms around myself and take in a long inhale, just trying to calm down
“Trust me.” He pauses and looks me in the eye. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course,” I say softly.
I climb off his lap after a few minutes and pace across the kitchen. It’s a large kitchen with a big island in the middle. The tile backsplash is a blue and green geometric pattern, and the cabinets are all dark wood. The appliances are stainless steel. It looks like a normal home. Like a real home.
“Can I have a tour?” I ask, trying to keep my mind off the images. The horrible images that keep flooding through my mind
“Of course. You can do whatever you want, princess.”
I smile, then walk out of the kitchen. He follows me, drink in his hand, ice clinking against the glass.
His living room is sparse, but nicely furnished. There’s a lot of light from multiple large windows and a sliding glass door in the back. I walk through the living room and he lingers behind me, not saying anything. He lets me wander around his home, looking at every little thing. I’m not taking it in though. I’m only distracting myself, and I’m sure Gio knows that. He’s patient though.
I look into his bedroom, at his large bed. There are guns stacked in the corner.
The bed looks so inviting. I strip out of my clothes and crawl onto it, pulling the covers over my body. I look back at Gio, wanting to see his reaction.
I can’t go back to the room. I just can’t.
Gio gives me a small chuckle as he walks over to the bedside. “You can’t sleep in the middle. I need room, too.” He leans down and kisses my forehead, pushing the hair from my forehead.
A sense of relief washes over me, but it doesn’t last long.
“We have to go, princess.”
