"Should've moved you to a more secure location, old man."
He still has the gun clenched in his hand, and I know he fought as best he could. Though you can see on his face that the illness had robbed him of all his strength.
My only consolation is that he died fighting, not begging for mercy, not hiding.
With my hand still over his eyes, I drop my head and allow the tears burning my eyes to fall. Just a few seconds where I permit myself to say goodbye to the one who saved me all those years ago, who saw beyond the blade I always carried. Who saw I had the potential to be a leader when everyone laughed. Who put his name on the line for a kid with so much rage and fire in him.
"I'll make sure to whisper your name when I sink the knives into her skin. I swear it."
Chapter 41
Roxy
"We didn't have to come," I tell Damien.
Two days ago, someone important to him was killed, and I know that even though he's trying to hide it from me, the loss cuts deep. There's a part of him fighting not to show this vulnerability, but I see it when I look into his eyes.
"No,slonko. It's your family."
Ha. Family is a strong word.
I don't know why the hell I haven't severed this toxic connection. It's not like I was ever considered a member of this "family," but I guess I'm a masochist. Because I keep coming back here, knowing I'll leave with my soul bleeding.
The house, with its orange brick exterior and gray roof, looks exactly the same as when I left.
I pull in a breath, and squeezing Damien's hand, I knock on the door.
After a few moments, Aria opens it, and I hate how instantly her eyes travel to Damien. And I hate the way her eyes light up with appreciation even more.
"If you're done staring at my husband, can we come in?" I ask, watching her eyes widen.
"Charming as always, Roxy," she says.
Damien squeezes my hand, and I know it's his way of telling me not to get worked up before we've even stepped inside. He already knows I don't have a good relationship with them, but I don't think he understands how much it means to me that he's here by my side.
Inside, the house smells of tomato sauce and basil, and of course Ivette made that disgusting pasta recipe.
After leaving my coat in the hallway and Damien setting his leather jacket beside it, we enter the living room, where my father, Ivette, Aria's fiancé Zion, a family friend named Cora, and Zion's family are gathered.
"Roxy, my God, look how you've grown!" Cora tells me, and I'd love to mention that she hasn't seen me since I was eighteen, when I left for college.
But I hold back because beside her, at the head of the table, sits my father. And I know that if I make a snide comment, he probably won't give me even two words all evening.
So I smile and greet her back.
"Is it humid outside?" Ivette asks. Not even two minutes in the house, and she’s already trying to piss me off.
"Let me guess—my hair's frizzy," I reply weakly.
The gleam in her eye makes it obvious that's exactly what she wanted to say, and Damien tenses beside me.
"This is Damien Kaminski, my husband," I finally introduce him, looking at my father.
He's the only person at this table I care about, though I don't know why I still do. Years of seeking his validation, years of hoping that I'd finally chosen the right clothes, the right words,the right actions to convince him I deserve even a fraction of the love he shows Aria, or even Ivette.
But with no results.
"I'm disappointed we're only finding out about your wedding now, Roxy," the man at the head of the table tells me.
